


Of Hostage Situations And Hospital Stays

by Wyndewalker



Series: Three versions of the same story [2]
Category: Sons of Thunder, The Magnificent Seven (TV), The Sentinel
Genre: Bad guys are seriously messed up, Gen, May be triggery for some people, Mention of Child murders, PTSD, Past Torture, Psychological Torture, References to Past Child Abuse, References to Suicide, Torture, Whole lot of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 63,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyndewalker/pseuds/Wyndewalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mag7 run into some old friends when they attend a conference in Cascade, Washington. Secrets, old and new, come to light and old enemies come to town. The expanded edition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The bad guys in this are seriously sick and twisted. Most of what they do occurs off screen but descriptions of the aftermath are talked about. If you can't watch Criminal Minds I don't suggest reading this.

**Cascade PD Building - Washington State**

"Ellison. Sandburg. My office now," Simon bellowed from his doorway.

With a shrug and a look at each other, they left the case file they'd been going over on Jim's desk and obeyed Simon's command. Inside Simon gestured for them to sit. "Close the door first, Blair."

/Oh no,/ he silently groaned as he closed the door. /He only calls me Blair when he's got something bad to tell me./

Simon waited until he was seated before speaking. "The Police Chief has just informed me that the PD will be hosting a conference here in Cascade next month. He has also informed me that both of you will be attending.

"What?" Jim exploded, jumping out of his chair, while Blair remained frozen. "You've got to be kidding, Simon. It's barely been a year since that whole fiasco with the press conference. I thought part of the deal was we wouldn't be attending any conferences for at least two or three years so things could die down a bit." The agitated man paced the office, his glare never leaving Simon. "Hell, the Police Chief is the one who came up with that idea. What the hell is he thinking?"

"Jim, calm down," Simon tried to speak as soothingly as possible, worried that Blair hadn't said a word, or moved a muscle for that matter.

"Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down when they're trying to throw Blair to the wolves? Didn't we sit down and make that damn deal, with all its rules and restrictions, to prevent stuff like this from happening?"

"God dammit, Jim..."

"It's all right, Jim," Blair spoke calmly from his seat, even as he nervously rubbed his hands on his jeans. "It's not like Simon asked for this."

Jim looked at his Guide, some of his anger turning to concern for the younger man. Finally he sat back down, sighing in resignation.

Simon managed to hide his look of relief. Since the whole incident with the press conference and the subsequent breakdown of the relationship between the two friends a year ago, they had slowly worked on rebuilding the shattered trust and friendship. It took a while but they finally came to terms with each other and forged a stronger relationship than before. One of the side effects was Jim was even more overprotective of Blair than before. Luckily, he also listened more to Blair, who was frequently the only one able to calm him.

"Now, if you're ready to listen to me I'll finish what I was trying to say. The Police Chief told me that he has been following Sandburg's progress, both in the Academy and here in Major Crimes. He is aware that there has been problems with other officers and cadets." Simon glared at Jim when he started to say something. "However, he felt it would be inappropriate if Cascade's 1997 Cop of the Year, who still has the best bust rate, was not in attendance. He also wants Blair to attend the profiling seminars. Considering your degrees in Anthropology and Psychology, your help on the Lash case, and your Academy aptitude testing, he thinks that profiling is the direction you should take in your career in the PD. I'm inclined to agree with the Chief on that." He rubbed a tired hand over his face before continuing. "We could use a skilled profiler. You'd still be Jim's partner, but you'd also be asked to consult on some other cases. Profilers also get a lot less publicity. I told the Police Chief I wasn't going to force either of you to go, but I think it might not be such a bad idea."

"Forget it. We're not going."

"I'll even give you guys a couple of days off right after the conference; barring any major breaks in a current case."

"The answer is still no." Jim stalked out of Simon's office.

"We'll think about it," Blair said, before hurrying after him. Blair caught up to him by the elevator, nodding briefly to the two Homicide Detectives also waiting.

"We are not going to that conference, Chief. I don't know why you told Simon we'd think about it. We're not going. End of story." Jim growled, his jaw clenched so tightly the words were barely intelligible.

"Don't you think I should have a say in the matter since I'm the one it affects most? If I'm okay with it, what's the problem?"

"What's the problem? Dammit, Sandburg, after everything that's happened over the past year the last thing I'd expect you to want to do is go to some conference where not only will you have to listen to shit from our own guys, but from other cities as well! I'm not going to let you suffer through that." Deciding the elevator was taking too long, he turned and headed for the stairs.

"Jim, I'm a big boy. I can make these decisions for myself," Blair growled, following him.

Before the door had even closed behind them, one of the detectives commented, "Sounds like Ellison and his boytoy, Sanddump, are having a lover's quarrel."

The other detective looked at him funny. "What makes you say that?"

"Come on. The little shit goes on national TV and admits to being a liar and a fraud, and then they let him become a cop. He has to be letting Ellison fu...oomph," he grunted as about 250 pounds of enraged Sentinel came hurtling out of the stairwell and slammed him up against the wall.

"My partner and I are not a subject that you know anything about." Jim growled his grip tightening and pushing the man further up the wall. "I suggest you stick to things you do know. Like how far up your a..."

"Jim, man, he's not worth it. He's just a jerk spouting off. You know Simon's gonna be pissed if you punch any more people this week," Blair said soothingly, his hand on Jim's forearm. "C'mon, let's go get lunch."

With one last shove and a growl Jim dropped the detective and stalked onto the open elevator. As the door closed, Jim said, "We're not going to that conference."


	2. Chapter 2

**Three Weeks Later - Denver ATF Building**

Chris looked at his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. Ezra was now 35 minutes late for the Team meeting.

Tappity-tap-tap.

He glared at JD, who immediately put his pen down on his stack of papers. Buck just shrugged when their leader glanced at him. He hadn't a clue as to why the Southern undercover agent was even later than usual.

"No, I don't know neither where he is," Vin drawled without opening his eyes or shifting from his slouched position when Chris looked at him. Nathan and Josiah both shrugged, they had no ideas. Chris glanced at his watch again and reached for the phone. If Ezra didn't answer, he was putting an APB out on the man.

Before he could dial, the door to the outer office banged open. Ezra strolled in, immaculately dressed as always, a pair of sunglasses hiding his green eyes. His hair was slightly tousled indicating he'd driven in with the top down on his sleek black jag.

"My apologies for my tardiness this morning, gentlemen," he said coolly, slipping into his seat. Placing the green and white cup of Mocha Almond Latte on the table, he quickly pulled out his case files and a notepad. Ready, he let his left hand lie in his lap, hidden from view. Chris hadn't missed the flash of white bandaging, nor the fact that he had yet to remove his sunglasses.

"Lose the shades. It's not that bright in here." Chris had a hard enough time reading the Southerner when he could see his eyes. Forget about it when he couldn't.

"Maybe to you," he mumbled as he reluctantly removed them. Nathan was out of his chair and around the table in an instant. The others just stared in shock. His right eye was black and pretty much swollen shut. His left eye, while unmarked, squinted against the fluorescent lighting. He winced when Nathan gripped his head so he could check him over.

"I assure you I am quite all right, Mr. Jackson." He tried to pull away, wincing again when Nathan's fingers brushed over a sore spot.

"Uh-huh," Nathan grunted. Once he was done checking Ezra's head he handed him his sunglasses, then picked up his bandaged left hand. Ezra gratefully slipped the glasses back on while trying to retrieve his injured appendage. Nathan could tell immediately that Ezra had attempted to bandage his hand himself. "This happen last night? JD, get my kit from my desk. I'm sure you didn't bother going to the hospital. How did it happen? You have trouble waking up this morning?"

Ezra blinked a couple of times, trying to process the rapid-fire questions. Finally he said slowly, "Yes, it happened last night. No, I saw no need to go to the hospital, and yes, I had some difficulty rousing myself this morning."

No one missed the fact that he ignored Nathan's question on how it happened.

"Nathan?" Chris asked.

"He should be all right. I don't think there's any damage to the right eye, but I won't know for sure until the swelling goes down. He's got a concussion, which is why the lights are bothering him. That was a damn fool thing to do, Ezra, going to sleep with a concussion. You're lucky you woke up at all. There's a couple of tender spots on the back of his head, which accounts for the concussion, and he scraped his knuckles pretty badly. Should I ask what the other guy looks like?"

"Which one?" Ezra hissed as Nathan poured hydrogen peroxide over the scrapes.

Nathan paused. "Which one? How many were there? Are you hurt anywhere else? Ribs? Back? Dammit, Ezra, why didn't you go to the hospital and get checked out?"

"There was no need, Mr. Jackson. Two gentlemen...no, two Neanderthals masquerading as men and myself got in to a slight altercation over who actually had the right of way. They kindly explained to me how erroneous it was for me to believe that because they had the stop sign and I did not that I had the right of way."

"Did you get a plate number?" Chris demanded. No one messed with his agents for whatever reason.

"No, I did not, Mr. Larabee. My thoughts were elsewhere at that particular moment. I'm fine. So, if we could move on? I'm sure you are all most eager to conclude this meeting which my tardy arrival delayed."

"We were pretty much done. Do you have anything new to report on your cases?"

"Regrettably, no. My informants have been sadly lacking in information of late."

"One last thing, then. You all know Josiah's giving a seminar at that conference in Cascade, Washington next week right? Well, the Judge has decided that we should all go. Says we'll benefit from it." Chris held up a hand before anyone could protest. "I already told the Judge what I thought about that and how none of you were gonna be happy. He said if any of you had a good reason for not going, and hot dates, events at the youth center, birthday parties, sudden arrival of family or friends and concerto/opera/ballet tickets do not count as good reasons," Chris ticked off each point with his fingers. "You can go talk to him. I don't want to hear nothing about it, and don't come whining to me when he laughs your sorry butt out of his office. Anything else? No? Good. Nathan, Ezra, my office. Everyone else try and get some work done. That does not include surfing the Net for new video games, pictures of women, rodeo scores, or information on some obscure tribe from who knows where."

Everyone filed out heading to their desks or Chris' office. In his office Chris closed the door and dropped the blinds so the others couldn't see in. Then he turned to the best undercover agent he'd ever worked with, who was also the biggest pain in his butt. "All right, Ezra. You are *going* to let Nathan check you over and you are *going* to do it willingly. If not I *will* call one of the others in here to help me hold you down. Understood?"

Ezra briefly considered refusing to cooperate, but decided it would be wiser not to argue with Larabee glare #16. The one that said, 'Try it and you will not like the results.' With a sigh of resignation he shrugged off his suit jacket and allowed Nathan to examine him. Ten minutes later Nathan handed it back to him while shaking his head.

"There's bruising over the ribs and some on his back. It doesn't appear anything's broken, although one of your ribs might be cracked. I'd feel better if you went to a hospital but I'm not going to force you to. If you start to have any kind of trouble like blurred vision, dizziness, trouble breathing I want you to tell one of us right away. All right, Ezra?"

"I've told you already, Mr. Jackson."

"Just humor me and promise."

"Upon my word of honor, if I begin to suffer any of the symptoms you have listed I shall contact one of you immediately."

"I expect you to keep that promise," Chris continued to glare at him, wondering why the man had to be so damn stubborn.

"Of course, Mr. Larabee."

"All right. Get out of here and try and get something done before lunch."

With a nod to their leader the two agents left his office and returned to their desks. It took a few minutes for Ezra to get his papers in satisfactory order. The pounding in his head was not helping matters. He was quite surprised when a plate containing a lightly buttered croissant appeared in front of him. Looking up, he found Vin standing next to his desk.

"What is this, Mr. Tanner?" // Okay, not the brightest thing to say but his head hurt, dammit. //

"It's a croissant, Ez," Vin replied with a cocky smirk. "You know, food. Nathan's always tellin' me ta eat somethin' after I hit my head, so I figured the same goes for you. 'Sides, a cup of Starbucks don't count as breakfast."

"And a Steak and Chilli Cheese Bean Burrito does?"

"Where I come from it does." He waited a moment as Ezra picked off a tiny piece of the croissant. "How's the Jag?"

"Other than a dented fender, remarkably fine." He absently pulled off another piece and popped it into his mouth.

"Guess yer gonna need a ride while she's in the shop, huh?"

Ezra shrugged. "I shall procure the services of a livery company." At Vin's confused look he clarified his statement. "I'll call a taxi."

"I can give ya a ride."

"I seem to recall you living on the other side of town from me. I would hardly expect you to drive out of your way just to provide me with transportation."

"I wouldn't a offered if I minded the drive."

Ezra opened his mouth to once again refuse, but suddenly realized he had no good reason to do so other than pride. "Thank you, Vin. I will gladly accept your offer."

"No problem, pard. When ya droppin' her off?"

"I was planning on doing so during lunch."

"Let me know when you're headin' out and I'll follow you."

Chris watched the conversation from his office. He had a pretty good idea what the topic of discussion was and was glad. Vin was probably the only one of them the Southerner would somewhat willingly take help from. If any of the others offered he'd dig in his heels and insist he was fine and didn't need charity, thank you very much. All of it said in that damn ultra-polite Southern accent of his that could make 'Go to hell' sound like a compliment.

He'd been surprised when the conman had slowly begun to open up to the quiet sharpshooter and eventually to the others. Thinking on it, he supposed the two recognized a common bond in each other. Both had had harsh childhoods and managed to survive. While he was glad they had found a friend in each other, he couldn't believe the amount of mischief and trouble the two managed to find. Speaking of mischief and trouble, he hoped this conference didn't go anything like the last one he'd sent them to.


	3. Chapter 3

**One Week Later  
** Monday Afternoon  
Grand Cascade Hotel  & Conference Center 

"Hey guys, you're never gonna guess what I heard today," JD Dunne bounded up to the table where his six older friends and fellow ATF agents sat eating their lunch. There were some days Chris Larabee, team leader, wanted to turn their youngest member around so he could check for the Energizer battery in his back.

"You are surely not going to ingest that...that concoction, Mr. Tanner?" Ezra Standish asked with a shudder.

Vin looked down at the double bacon cheeseburger with lettuce, onions, tomato, pickles, ketchup, relish and mayo on a sourdough roll with gravy cheese fries, then grinned. "Yep."

The grin widened when Ezra made a horrified choking noise as he bit into it with great enjoyment.

"Mr. Jackson, surely you have some comment to make on his deplorable eating habits?"

The dark-skinned ex-medic didn't bother to look up from his Chef's salad, "If he wants to clog his arteries with all that fat and grease and drive his cholesterol up so he brings on a heart attack and dies at an early age, that's his prerogative."

"Knew you'd see it my way, Nate."

Nathan just raised an eyebrow that turned to a look of pained startlement when Buck, laughing, slapped him on the back. JD heaved an exasperated sigh. Nobody ever listened to him.

"What did you hear, son?" Josiah asked, taking pity on him.

"I had this Computers & Surveillance seminar just now. It was pretty boring, I already knew most of what the guy had to say, although he did talk about this one program that was really cool. It could..."

"The point, JD. The point," Buck growled affectionately as he whapped the back of his head.

"Anyway," JD glared at the unrepentant ladies' man, "there were these two guys in the seminar also. One was older, about your age Buck; he was tall, and like half-bald. The other one was younger with long hair like yours, Vin, only curly. He was about my height. The older guy obviously didn't want to be there, he was asleep half the time. Every now and then he would look around and glare at someone. The other guy was taking notes like crazy and kept raising his hand to ask questions or answer one but the guy giving the lecture kept ignoring him. The guy sitting next to me was from the local PD and he told me that the younger one used to be some sort of doctoral student and he wrote his thesis on people called Sentinels. They're like Superman or something..."

"They have enhanced senses, JD. Not Superman, just above average senses," Josiah interrupted, frowning thoughtfully.

"Uh, okay. Well, this guy tried to claim that the detective he was working with, who's his partner now, was one of these Sentinel people. When the press got a hold of it and started making a big deal, he held a press conference and claimed the whole thing was a lie. He admitted to being a liar and a fraud. Then they still let him become a cop. He even got bumped right up to being a detective in the Major Crimes unit. Don't that seem weird?"

"Hell yeah. How do you let someone like that become a cop? It don't seem right," Buck said, shaking his head.

"Being as we don't know all the circumstances I believe it would be wrong of us to pass judgment on the young man, Brothers."

"Are you telling me that you think it's right they gave a badge to someone who admitted to handing in a fraudulent paper and then lied about it? You're kidding right?" Nathan looked over at Josiah, not believing he'd heard what he had.

"If they saw fit to give him a badge after what occurred I think there is more to it than meets the eye," Josiah said a bit sternly.

"Ya know, Josiah's right. They wouldn't have given him a badge without a good reason." Vin shrugged, noticing that Ezra had grown quiet during the conversation and realized it had probably brought up memories of the rumors surrounding his own career. Rumors he had never been able to fully get away from. "It's real easy for things to get twisted around an' around until you don't know what's truth any more and what ain't."

"Naw, that just don't sit right." Buck shook his head in disagreement. "The guy went on TV and said he was a fraud and a liar. Why would he do that, destroy his own career and credibility, if it wasn't true that he'd lied? How many people do you know would destroy their own lives to protect someone else's?"

Vin looked at him closely before shaking his head sadly. "I thought I knew at least six people who would."

Suddenly JD's eyes opened wide and pointed to a table across the room, his voice wasn't much more than a whisper. "Those are the two guys I was talking about."

Six heads turned to follow his gaze. On the other side of the dining room the two men sat at a table oblivious to the scrutiny.

"Captain?" Vin breathed, barely aware that he'd spoken aloud. Chris and Ezra looked at him, being the only ones who'd heard.

"I think you have been misinformed, JD. That man is incapable of that kind of deception," Josiah said, unable to tear his eyes from the familiar face.

"You two know them?" Chris asked, looking from Vin to Josiah.

"I think so," Vin answered, his hand trembling slightly as he gulped from his drink.

"I know the younger man very well," Josiah said with a paternal smile, but it turned to a frown when he thought of what JD had told them. Something wasn't right. "I think it's time we renewed our acquaintance."

"What do you mean you think so? Either ya know him or ya don't," Buck asked, as Vin rose with Josiah.

"I ain't sure it's him cause the Captain went MIA in Peru close to nine years ago. So, I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."

The others scrambled to follow after the pair as they wended their way through the crowded dining room. Ezra noticed that most of the tables surrounding the pair were empty, very unusual considering the amount of people dining. He also noticed some of the openly hostile looks directed at the pair. From the way the older man would occasionally turn to glare at someone it was obvious they were not unaware of the attention they were receiving. As they got closer the younger man noticed them first. His mouth opened in a shocked 'oh' then broke into huge smile.

"Tree?"

"Lord, it's good to see you, Blair." Josiah grinned and scooped Blair up into a big bear hug.

"Tree?" Buck and Nathan mouthed to each other with upraised eyebrows. JD just grinned at the happy reunion, all thoughts of the earlier conversation gone. Chris and Ezra were more concerned about Vin, who had hung back as Josiah approached Blair. The older man with him had risen to his feet frowning slightly. He didn't seem angry; he just didn't appear to like not knowing what was going on.

Finally Vin took a step forward and said hesitantly, "Captain?"

Pale blue eyes swung from Josiah and Blair to the shy sharpshooter. The eyes widened in recognition as they took in the lanky form, the long brown hair, and blue eyes almost as pale as his own. "Tanner?"

"Yeah, Captain. Wasn't sure ya'd remember me," he said as they clasped hands then hugged briefly. Pulling back, Jim kept a hand on his shoulder, "Still as scrawny as ever I see."

"Yup. Still the runt a the litter."

Jim's eyes clouded over for a moment and the sadness was visible to everyone. "Yeah, but you were the runt of my litter," he said softly.

"The others?" Vin asked, certain he already knew the answer. The negative shake of Jim's head confirmed it. "Damn."

"Ahem," Ezra coughed politely, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group. They were drawing a fair number of looks and most of them were not entirely friendly. "Perhaps we should move this reunion to a more private place where Mr. Tanner and Mr. Sanchez can make introductions?"

"Um, yeah. I think there's an empty conference room down the hall from here. There aren't any seminars scheduled in there today."

"Please tell me you didn't memorize the entire conference schedule and room assignments, Chief?"

"I didn't want to be late for anything." Blair shrugged, leading the way.

"But the entire schedule? And you call me anal retentive."

"You are anal retentive, Mr. I go into a cleaning frenzy if I find a speck of dust under the refrigerator. Mr. I have a house rule for everything."

"Maybe your friend should visit the CDC for a week or so, Mr. Tanner. We might see an improvement."

"Nah, the Captain'd have a heart attack if he ever saw the CDC."

"Why would I have a heart attack if I saw the Center for Disease Control?" Jim turned to look at Ezra and Vin.

"Not *the* CDC, but the domicile in which Messrs. Wilmington and Dunne currently co-habitat. Due to its state of cleanliness, or lack thereof, it has acquired the nickname of the CDC. We are all quite convinced that there are numerous exotic and deadly diseases germinating therein."

"He means it's a mess," Blair clarified when Jim frowned.

"Yeah, I got that part. I'm just amazed that there's someone besides you who can fit that many ten-dollar words in a sentence."

"Why do I think I should resent that slanderous remark?"

"Cut it out, Ezra," Chris growled. "We've been here barely 24 hours. If you get us in another fight..."

"Oh no, last evening's unfortunate misunderstanding at the airport was all Mr. Wilmington's fault. I refuse to take the blame for that. How was I supposed to know that the gentleman inquiring about Mr. Wilmington's 'discussion' with the red-haired woman was her husband? Speaking of Mr. Wilmington, would you go retrieve him, Mr. Dunne, as we have reached our destination."

"Sure. Where is he?" JD turned to look for the older man.

"Just down the hall talking to that lovely brunette," Ezra sighed, pointing him out.

"Okay," JD grinned, heading down the hallway. As he went he unclipped his nametag from his shirt and shoved it in his pocket.

"This should be fun," Vin grinned at Chris, who just shook his head.

Josiah leaned in towards Blair, standing by the door. "Best get ready to open that door real quick. JD's having some fun."

None of them could hear what was being said, but the five ATF agents had a pretty good idea. Jim extended his hearing to listen in.

"If you're free how about we go out to dinner tonight? I'm sure this city has some great restaurants. What do you say?"

Before she could answer JD bounced up to them, an expression of wide-eyed innocence on his face. "There you are, Dad. I've been looking all over for you. Is she coming with us to the Zoo?"

Buck just stared at him in open-mouthed astonishment. The woman looked from Buck to JD and back to Buck. She could definitely see the similarities. JD's next words brought her attention back to him.

"She's real pretty, Dad. You should make her my new mom. Do you want to be my new mom? You're much prettier than the three women he's dating back home."

Buck was still staring at JD when she slapped him across the face and stormed off. This seemed to bring him out of his daze. It was clear from his expression that JD wasn't going to live long if he didn't run; and run he did. "I'm gonna kill you, boy!"

The others couldn't help but snicker as the pair ran past in to the conference room. They followed at a more sedate pace. Buck had cornered JD behind a chair and was advancing on him when Chris called a halt to it.

"Buck, JD, sit down." He glared at them until they complied. JD made sure to put Nathan between him and Buck. Finally when they were all settled, Chris indicated for Josiah to make introductions.

"All right, this young scamp is JD Dunne, our computer and surveillance expert. Next to him is Nathan Jackson, former Army Medic, EMT, and our Forensics specialist. He also tries to keep us all in one piece despite some of our best efforts to the contrary." JD and Vin had the grace to blush, while Ezra just raised his eyebrows in a 'Who, me?' look. "The black-haired man with the mustache is Buck Wilmington. Ladies man and self-appointed big brother to JD. Most of the time his job consists of keeping JD from getting himself killed."

"Hey!" JD protested.

"Thankless job it is too," Buck muttered.

"Can it, you two," Chris growled.

"The gentleman with the sunny disposition dressed in black is Chris Larabee, our team leader."

"Team babysitter you mean," he muttered this time.

Josiah ignored him. "The long-haired young man with the Texas accent is Vin Tanner, our sharpshooter and tracker. The fashionably dressed gentleman next to him is Ezra Standish, our undercover agent."

"Charmed, I'm sure." Ezra gave them his customary two-finger salute.

"Hey, cool shades. Are they Ray-bans?" Blair asked, just noticing the Southerner had yet to remove them.

"I thought you said your eyes weren't bothering you anymore?" Nathan demanded, starting to rise from his chair.

"I assure you, Mr. Jackson, my eyesight is fine."

"Quite being such a peacock, Ezra, and take off the glasses. You can put them back on when we leave the room." There were some days he really wished he could shoot the smart-mouthed Southerner himself. With a sigh Ezra pulled off the glasses, revealing the fading bruise and slightly puffy eye.

"Wow, man, nice shiner. How'd you get it?”

"A minor misunderstanding, Mr.?"

"Oh, I'm Blair Sandburg and this is my partner, Jim Ellison. We're detectives in the Major Crimes unit here in the Cascade PD. What PD are you all with?"

"We're ATF agents," JD said proudly.

"Out of the Denver office." Vin added.

Jim shook his head. "Don't tell me you moved back to Purgatorio?"

Vin gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged, "It's home."

"What's Purgatorio?"

"The Hell's Kitchen of Denver, son," Josiah answered.

"You live there?" Blair turned to glare at Jim, "And you thought *I* was crazy for living in the neighborhood I used to live in."

"Chief, your apartment was demolished when the drug lab next door blew up. That is a bad neighborhood. And don't give me any of that crap about how cheap it was. A bad neighborhood is a bad neighborhood."

"Your apartment blew up?" Josiah frowned at Blair.

"Long story, man. Long story."

"He's right you know, pard," Chris said to Vin.

"Uh-uh. We ain't startin' this again, Chris. I ain't moving."

"As much as I would love to witness yet another debate over where it would be best for Mr. Tanner to reside I believe the lunch hour has drawn to a close." Ezra informed them, slipping his sunglasses back on. "Perhaps this conversation could be continued at a later time?"

"That sounds like a good idea. Dinner, maybe? We don't have anything scheduled tonight do we, Chris?" Josiah looked to him for confirmation.

"Evenings are free to do whatever you want," he shot a warning glare at their three youngest and most prone to trouble, "within reason."

"How about we have everyone over to the loft, Jim?"

"Sorry, Chief. Tonight's Poker Night, or did you forget?" Jim noticed Ezra sit up a little straighter at the mention of poker.

"Nah, I didn't forget, but only Simon and Megan are coming."

"What about..."

"Joel's daughter has a dance recital tonight. H has a hot date with Shar-Lee Michaels from accounting; and Rafe mumbled something about blood-sucking fiends so I think his sister is in town. So?"

"All right. How does eight sound?"

"If you're sure it's not a problem?" Chris asked, knowing how quickly, and easily, his exuberant agents could wear out their welcome.

"Yeah, it's fine. I just wasn't sure how the others would react to so many additions to the game, but Simon and Connors won't mind. Chief, paper and pen?" Jim took the pad and pen from Blair and quickly wrote out directions to the loft. "Here's directions. It's apartment 307. I don't think the elevator's working again so you may have to use the stairs."

"'Kay. We'll see you at eight then. All right, boys, let's get going. Ezra, I don't care how much of an idiot the lecturer is, keep your comments to yourself. I've already had one complaint about your smart-ass remarks. Vin, I don't care how cool it is you are not bringing home any new guns. Ezra, keep an eye on him. Hit on one more instructor, Buck, and I will lock you in your hotel room and make sure they only send up *male* staff. JD,...keep a leash on Buck. Josiah, Nathan, have fun."

Jim and Blair watched and listened in amusement as Chris herded his team out of the room. Jim heard him mutter, "I'm not an ATF agent; I'm a den mother."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thunder Investigations  
Dallas, TX**

Briiing. Briiing.

Trent Malloy and Carlos Sandoval both looked up from the magazines they were reading to eye the phone. It was the first time it had rung all afternoon. Which was pretty bad considering it was just about 5 o'clock.

Briiing. Briiing.

"It's your turn to answer it," Carlos said smugly. Kim, their secretary, was away on vacation so it was up to them to answer the phone. He liked being a PI but had a tendency to say the wrong thing to customers and neither Trent nor Kim would allow him to negotiate payment deals anymore.

Trent just smiled as he reached for the phone. "Hello, Thunder Investigations. Oh, hi, Mom. What's.... I'm sure he's fine. He probably just lost track of time. Did you call.... They haven't seen him?"

Carlos had gone back to reading his Hot Rod Car magazine when he realized it was Trent's mom, but the concern in his friend's voice had him putting aside the magazine and sitting up straight.

"I know, Mom. It'll be all right. Carlos and I will...Mom?! What is it? We'll be right there." Trent was on his feet and hanging up the phone before Carlos could say anything. "I'll explain on the way."

Carlos just nodded following him out to Trent's convertible. Neither of them bothered with the doors, simply jumping in instead. Once they were on the road Carlos asked, "What's going on?"

"Mom called because Tommy hadn't come home yet. She'd called all his friends that she could think of and none of them had had seen him since just after school. I wasn't able to get much out of her but I think while we were on the phone a van pulled up in front of the house and dumped Tommy out. It...it didn't sound like he was in good condition."

"Madre de Dios," Carlos swore.

Fifteen minutes later they pulled up behind the ambulance in front of Trent's mom's house. Trent was out of the car before it even shutdown. "Mom?"

"Oh God, Trent," she cried, hugging him.

"What happened, Mom? How's Tommy?"

"I...I don't know. There was a van. They pushed him out. So much blood. There was so much blood, Trent." She began sobbing even harder, no longer coherent. Sensing Carlos come up next to him, he said, "Mom, Carlos is going to get you and the kids in the car. We'll take you to the hospital, okay? I just want to talk to the EMT's first. I'll be right back."

"Come on, Mrs. Malloy. Is there anything you or the kids need from the house?" Carlos nodded to Trent as he gently steered the distraught woman towards the two kids sitting on the front steps.

Making his way to where the EMT's were loading Tommy onto a stretcher, Trent tried to think of who would have done this and why. For the life of him he didn't know. The sight of blood covering his brother's clothes and the swelling already beginning to show on his face made Trent slightly nauseous. "How is he? Will he be all right?"

The EMT packing up the equipment looked up at him, "You are?"

"His older brother, Trent Malloy."

"He's in pretty bad shape, Mr. Malloy. We won't know how bad until we get him to the hospital. Oh, he said to make sure you got this," the medic held up Tommy's blood-covered backpack. "He was real insistent. Wouldn't let us help him until we promised."

"Thanks." Trent took it numbly, staring at the blood covering the nylon and leather. Carlos was at his side, gently guiding him to the mini-van. Without thinking he got in the backseat with his younger brother and sister. Carlos got in the driver's seat. He quickly got the van onto the street following right behind the ambulance. They were halfway there when Trent started to come out of the shock.

"Walker. I need to call Walker. Where's my cell..."

"I already called him, buddy," Carlos said soothingly. "Walker, Trivette, Alex and CD are going to meet us there. It's all taken care of. Everything's going to be all right. Tommy'll be just fine."

They arrived at the hospital the same time as the others. Alex immediately went to Mrs. Malloy, hugging her then helping her answer the nurse's questions. CD took the kids to the candy machine, reassuring them all the while. Walker and Trivette nodded to Carlos before turning concerned eyes on Trent.

"What happened, Trent?" Walker asked gently. The blonde man still had the look of someone in shock, his face even paler than usual.

"I don't know. Mom called because Tommy hadn't come home yet. The next thing I know she was shouting 'Oh God', and then she was saying they needed me and hung up. When we got to the house the ambulance was there and they were already loading Tommy inside. There was blood all over him. It was everywhere. So much..."

"Trent! He's gonna be okay. You hear me?" Carlos shook Trent's shoulder, getting his attention before he could start re-living past nightmares. "Tommy's going to be okay."

Trent nodded numbly. Wisely, Walker decided not to pursue that line of questioning until they knew for sure if Tommy would indeed be all right. He noticed Trent was clutching a blood-splattered backpack in his hands.

"Is that Tommy's?" he asked.

"What?"

"The backpack. Is it Tommy's?"

"Oh, yeah. The medic said Tommy made them promise to give it to me. Refused treatment until they did."

"Do you know what's inside it?"

"His schoolbooks I guess," Trent shrugged, frowning down at the bag.

"Whatever is in there, it sounds like Tommy thought it was important you get it. Maybe we should take a look?" Trivette suggested, already reaching into his jacket pocket for some plastic gloves.

"That sounds like a good idea," Walker agreed.

Carlos asked a passing nurse for some plastic bags while Trivette took the bag from Trent and put it down on a nearby table. Carefully opening the zipper all the way, he stepped back before pulling open the top flap. It looked like Trent had been right. "There's some books. Math, History, Spanish class. A notebook and these two articles. One's from a Texas paper, the Tascosa Herald. 'Bounty Hunter Cleared of Murder Charges.' And the other is an old Times Magazine cover; 'Hero Lost In Peru Is Found'. There doesn't seem to be anything to connect the two, although Tommy drew the same symbol on both."

Trivette shrugged and started to show them to Walker when Trent suddenly gasped. "Can I see them? Where's the symbol?"

Trivette turned the articles so Trent could see the symbol that had been drawn over the face in both pictures. They watched Trent turn an ashen color as he stumbled back, tripped and ended up sitting on the floor. His voice was hoarse as he whispered, "God, what have I done? Oh God, Tommy. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God."

"Snap out of it, Trent," Carlos knelt in front of his best friend, grasping his upper arms as the man began to rock. "What does the symbol mean, hermano? Who are those men?"

"Captain Ellison and Private Tanner. Friends of mine in the Rangers. The symbol belongs to...to a monster. A monster we put behind bars 8 or 9 years ago." Trent gripped Carlos' arms tightly as another thought came to him. "I have to warn them. They have to know, if it's not too late already. God, if he gets a hold of Vin..."

"Easy, Trent. Why don't we find someplace quiet to sit and you can tell us the whole story," Walker said gently, then to the nurse who stood nearby watching them worriedly, "Is there somewhere private we can go?"

"Sure. You can use the nurse’s lounge. It's right..."

"No, I need to know about Tommy," Trent tried to argue.

"Someone will let us know as soon as there's word," Walker reassured him. "All right?"

Trent nodded and allowed himself to be led to the lounge. He was thankfully his little brother and sister hadn't seen him lose it like that, nor his mom. The last thing he wanted to do was add to their worries. In the nurse's lounge he sank down onto the couch, his head dropping down into his hands. Carlos sat next to him, a reassuring hand on his back. Walker and Trivette pulled up chairs to sit across from him.

"Why don't you start from the beginning, Trent. Who is this man and what did he do while you were in the Rangers?"

Trent took a deep breath. He still remembered the whole nightmare like it was yesterday and he hadn't even been at the center of it. That honor had gone to the poor kid, Vin. He almost snorted at that thought. He was only four years older than him. "While I was in the Rangers I specialized in teaching martial arts and self-defense to new recruits. The base I was at was predominantly the Rangers. Lot of Special Ops launched out of there. We had some of the best stationed at that base. One unit in particular, Ellison's Jags. They had the highest success rate, never lost a man. Some of the guys believed Ellison was part jaguar. He was that good. After sparring with him a couple of times I could see the comparison. The man moved like a cat and was scary as all hell to those who didn't know him. Even those who did feared his temper. But the Captain was a good man. His men were family. That's how he treated them and that's how he protected them. You never messed with one of his men and didn't expect to feel his wrath.”

"So one day he shows up in the gym with this scrawny-looking kid trailing along behind him. Says to me, 'Malloy, this here is Runt. He needs to learn how to defend himself properly. Teach him.' Then he says to the kid, 'You mind him, Tanner, or you're hamburger. Understand?' Tanner just gives him this slow nod and watches him walk away. All the while he's slouching against the wall. The second the door closed it was like watching a Jekyll and Hyde. He straightens to full attention and barks out his name and rank. 'Private Vin Tanner, sir. Where would you like to start, sir?' Tanner had a Texas drawl so thick even I had a hard time understanding him. Figured out later he used it as a way of keeping people at a distance.

"He'd been taken right from boot camp and tossed into Ranger training. Apparently some General saw him on the firing range taking out targets with a handgun that most guys couldn't hit with a rifle. He was Ellison's new sniper. Vin was also real good at disappearing into the brush. If Ellison was a jaguar then Vin was his shadow. And you knew if either if of them ever said they had a bad feeling about something all hell was about to break loose." Trent paused again, sipping from the juice Carlos handed him

"About six weeks after I started working with him, he and five other recruits were sent out on a training mission with a Sergeant Andrew Moran and three of his goons is the only way to describe them. I remember Vin had been real uneasy about going. He couldn't give a solid reason for not going and we hadn't learned yet to trust his instincts. I wish to God we had. Moran turned into a monster. The man went totally insane. According to Vin it started out normal enough. They went into the field on foot in full gear with Moran and his men driving along side in two jeeps. About two miles out they stopped and Moran forced them to hand over all their weapons. Their hands were then bound together and they were tied three each to the two jeeps. They were then forced to run to keep up. If one went down they all went and were dragged until Moran felt like stopping to allow them to get to their feet. They traveled six miles like that on a mostly dirt road. When they finally stopped for the night they were told the objective of the training mission had changed. Instead of searching for and neutralizing a target location they were going through POW training."

"POW training?" Walker frowned. "First year recruits are never put through POW training, and I thought that was all done at Fort Lubbox?"

"Wait a minute. What's POW training?" Trivette asked.

"Torture," Trent said simply. "Certain Special Forces units go through POW training when they are likely to be going into high-risk information sensitive situations. They're put through all the forms of torture they're likely to encounter."

"Before that happens the trainees go through a whole range of psychological testing to weed out those who are completely unsuitable. The military isn't in the habit of driving it's soldiers insane on purpose." Walker added.

"So your friend Vin and those other guys weren't supposed to be anywhere near this POW training and this Sergeant Moran knew that right?" Carlos asked, wanting to make sure he had everything straight.

"Yeah, Moran knew it. I still don't know how he expected to get away with the whole thing. It was a six-day training mission. Moran was supposed to report in each night. When there was no contact on the third day a unit was sent after them. Ellison and his men wanted to go but the General in charge of the base wouldn't let them. Good thing too otherwise Moran and his men wouldn't have come back alive. Not that they deserved to live after what they did to those boys." Trent got to his feet, pacing a few steps, keeping his back to them. Carlos was a little stunned by the anger and hate he heard in his long-time friend's voice. He'd never known Trent to hate anyone and certainly not with such passion.

"What happened to them, Trent?" Walker asked gently, bringing the younger man back to the present.

Trent turned back around and leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. "I'm still not entirely sure of everything that was done to them. The trial was closed to everyone. The only people allowed in the courtroom were those who were directly involved, the JAG officers, and Captain Ellison. Material witnesses were there only for the duration of their testimony. I was called to the stand because I'd been training Vin and I'd had a previous run-in with Moran over one of my other students. Anyone could tell that the only thing keeping Vin together at that point was Ellison. I do know that they were beaten, put on water rations, a couple of them were whipped, and one of them had his arm broken. They branded Vin with hot pokers. I suspect they also assaulted him, but I don't know for sure and I wasn't going to ask.

"Of the six of them that went on the training mission four took a medical discharge from the army, one of whom killed himself six months later. Vin and the fifth, Private Peters stayed in the Army. Peters took a desk assignment as a Colonel's aide. That Colonel is now a three-star General and Peters is still with him. Vin, well, he stayed with Ellison's unit. Didn't say a word though unless he absolutely had to for close to a year. You could talk to him but he'd just sit there and stare at you with this unreadable look. Then one day he comes back from a weekend leave and it's like the past year never happened. Oh, he'd still get a look in his eyes every now and then, but somehow he'd moved past it. The thought of Moran getting his hands on Vin again." Trent shook his head, his gaze dark as he locked eyes with Walker. "I need to find Vin. I need to warn him and Ellison."

"What about the other victims?" Walker asked.

"Moran won't go after them."

"Why not?" Trivette asked.

"They wouldn't testify against him. Only Vin did with supporting testimony from Ellison and myself. Moran swore he'd get even. But he's supposed to be locked up in an Army Psychiatric ward somewhere. He’s serving six consecutive life-sentences with no chance for parole."

There was a light knock, drawing their attention before any more could be said. A doctor stood in the doorway, waiting for them to notice him. "Trent Malloy?"

"That would be me. Are you Tommy's doctor?"

"Yes, I'm Doctor Gray. Your brother is going to be just fine. Most of his wounds were what we call bleeders. A lot of blood but very little damage. There's quite a bit of bruising and he's got a cracked rib. He'll be sore for a while, but he's going to make a full recovery. I've already talked with your mother. The plastic surgeon is still with him, but they should be moving him to a room in about half an hour. Do you have any questions?"

"No. Thank you, Doctor. For taking care of my brother."

"No thanks are necessary, Mr. Malloy. It's what I do. If you do have any questions I'll be on duty for another few hours. Just have one of the nurses page me."

"Thank you." Walker exchanged nods with the doctor and the man left leaving them alone again. "Why don't you go stay with your mother, Trent? Jimmy and I will go see if we can find your friends."

"All right. Captain James Ellison. He was from Cascade, Washington if I remember correctly. Finding Vin Tanner though is going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack. He was from Houston, Texas originally then somehow he ended up in Denver, Colorado when he was ten or so. Lived on the streets but managed to get his high school diploma and joined the Army first chance he had. I haven't seen him since he left Fort Willis a month after Ellison's unit went MIA in Peru. Ellison volunteered him for a solo that kept him off that mission. I think the Captain knew something was wrong and was trying to protect him. Tanner went after the man who gave them the bad intel. Got himself court-martialed and assigned to a new base."

"We'll see what we can do," Walker assured him as they all walked back into the hallway.

"You just hang in there, Trent. We'll let you know as soon as we have something," Trivette added.

"Yeah. Thanks, guys."

"See you, Carlos." They nodded to the Latino before heading off down the hallway. Carlos looked at his friend in concern.

"You doing okay, buddy?"

"I'll be alright, Carlos," he said, leaning against the taller man for a brief moment, trying to absorb some of his strength. "I'll be even better when I know this monster is off the streets and can't hurt Vin anymore."

"You really cared for this guy, don't you?"

"He was a good kid, a good friend. Seemed like he never got a break until he was assigned to Ellison's unit. Even then he had Moran trying to take him down. Despite everything that was done to him he was a good man. He didn't let it destroy him. I just hate the thought of Moran getting a second chance at it. C'mon, let's go see if we can see Tommy yet."

A short while later they were all crowded into Tommy's hospital room waiting for him to wake up. Tommy began to stir slightly. Instantly Trent and his mom were by his side. A few more minutes passed before his eyes blinked open and semi-focused on his mom. "Mom?"

"I'm right here, baby. You're going to be alright. The doctor said you were going to be just fine."

"Trent?! Where's Trent, Mom?"

"I'm right here, buddy. It's okay. They're not going to hurt you again."

"Trent, my backpack. Did you get my backpack? He put something in it. He said you had to get it."

"Yeah, I got it. I know who did this to you and he's going to pay for it. I promise, little brother."

"He said he was going to get even for what you did to him. Said some guy named Tanner was finally going to learn his lesson and there was nothing you or somebody named Ellison could do about it. What was he talking about, Trent?"

"Something from when I was in the Rangers. He won't hurt you again, Tommy. I promise. Why don't you try and get some more rest, okay?" Trent said, seeing Walker and Trivette in the doorway. Tommy nodded, clutching their mother's hand tightly as he started to drift off to sleep again.

Trent and Carlos stepped out into the hallway. "What did you find?"

"You were right about Ellison," Jimmy said. "He's back in Cascade working as a police detective in the Major Crimes unit. Highly decorated. His partner's name is Blair Sandburg. We also found Tanner. He's living in Denver again and he is an ATF agent, working with a team of six other men. We talked with their superior and it turns out they're in Cascade this week for a week-long seminar."

"Huh. I don't know if that's good or bad. It's good because I can warn them both at the same time, but bad because it makes things easier for Moran. Did you get addresses for them? I have to go warn them and it'd probably be better if I did it in person."

Walker held out a folder. "Here's their addresses, some background information on Ellison, Tanner, and their respective partners. There's also two plane tickets in there. Your flight leaves in two hours."

Trent just stared at them for a moment, "But..."

"I knew you'd want to go warn them as soon as possible and I also figured Carlos wasn't likely to let you go alone."

"You got that right. No way I'm letting you face this guy alone, hermano."

"Thanks, Carlos, and thanks, Walker, Jimmy."

"No problem, Trent."

"What's going on, Trent?" Mrs. Malloy asked, coming out into the hallway.

"I know where the guy who did this is going, Mom, and me and Carlos are going after him. I also have to warn a couple of friends of mine. He's going to go after them next. He only hurt Tommy to get to me."

She nodded in understanding, knowing better than to ask questions she either didn't want to know the answers to or he couldn't tell her the truth about. "You get him, Trent. You bring this man to justice for Tommy, and for me."

"I will, Mom. I promise."

"Good. You boys be careful. I love you both and expect you to come back here in one piece."

"We will, ma'am," Carlos smiled and hugged her then stepped back so Trent could do the same. With a nod to Walker and Trivette they left to go pack and catch their plane.


	5. Chapter 5

**That Night at the Loft**

"Hey, Simon, could you grab the door? The guys are coming up the stairs," Jim called from the bathroom. Simon paused halfway between the kitchen counter and the card table, his arms filled with bags of chips, pretzels and bottles of soda. Megan smiled at his predicament.

"I'll get it, Captain. Why don't you finish setting out the crisps and drinks?"

"Thanks, Connors. And how many times do I have to tell you it's Simon when we're off-duty."

"Of course, Capt...Simon."

"Hey, Jim, where'd you put the pepper?" Blair asked, not bothering to raise his voice while he stirred the pot of chilli.

"Middle cabinet, top shelf, where you put it, Sandburg."

"Ah, there it is." Blair grabbed it off the shelf letting the cabinet door bang closed. "I know. I know. Don't bang the cabinets."

Megan shook her head at their bantering. They really seemed like an old married couple sometimes. Smiling, she opened the door just as Chris raised his hand to knock. Oh my, she thought, looking at the assortment of handsome men standing in front of her. Before she could invite them in Jim came storming out of the bathroom.

"Jesus, Sandburg, do you think you could have at least cleaned the bathroom a little after your shower? You'd think I was living with Pigpen instead of one neo-hippie witch-doctor..."

"That's getting sooo old, man, and I was going to clean the bathroom. It's not my fault you waited until after we got home to tell me you hadn't had a chance to go shopping for tonight." Blair shook the spoon he'd been stirring with at Jim and watched in horror as some chilli went flying off, narrowly missing Jim but hitting Simon square in the chest.

"Sandburg!" Simon bellowed, taking a step forward.

"Uhm, boys? Company's here," Megan announced, smiling sweetly at the three men.

"Hi!" JD piped up cheerfully, while the other six snickered. Actually Chris was just shaking his head in sympathy. It reminded him of some of the Seven's own gatherings.

"Uh, hi, guys. C'mon in," Blair said, hurrying over to greet them before Simon could take the chance to pound him.

"Here, Simon. I think I have a sweatshirt that'll fit you," Jim said, leading him up to the loft.

As the guys filed in Buck sidled up to Megan, giving her his best smile as he smoothed the front of his blue denim shirt, "Well hello there, darlin'. Name's Buck. I sure wish the boys had told me there was gonna be such a fine lookin' woman here, cause I'd a worn my best set a clothes."

"Don't let him fool you, ma'am. Those are his best set of clothes," JD said in a stage whisper, then ducked as Buck swiped at him.

"I'm not from the States so I'm still a bit fuzzy on the way you Yanks phrase things, but was that a pick-up line?"

"No, my dear," Ezra spoke up as he folded the twenty Vin handed him, "that is what we call a come-on. Pick-up lines are usually more obvious, particularly when spouted by Mr. Wilmington. And for the record I am from Atlanta, Georgia. If anything I am a Reb, not a Yank, and technically Mr. Tanner would be a Texan. You have a most charming accent. What region of Australia do you hail from?"

"Oooo, I like him. He can stay, Sandy."

Blair just rolled his eyes. "Let me introduce everybody then I'll take jackets. I think I remember everyone's names. You met Buck, the Reb is Ezra, Vin is the one with long hair, Chris is the one in black, JD is the one by the CDs, Josiah is in the kitchen sampling my chilli, and Nathan is next to him. Did I get everybody right? Guys, this is Megan Connors, she's a Police Inspector from the New South Wales PD in Australia and is on semi-permanent loan to the Cascade Major Crimes unit."

"Hey, kinda like Ez, only we got him from the Fibbies. Oww, that hurt, Buck." JD rubbed the back of his head where he'd been smacked.

"I sincerely doubt she left her home under the same auspices I did."

Megan saw the slight grimace cross his features before settling back in to the carefully bland façade. Time to change the subject, she thought. "So do you always wear sunglasses at night?"

"No," he sighed, slipping them off to reveal the still fading bruise, "only on special occasions."

She blushed realizing she'd just put her foot in it. "You know," she said brightly, taking Ezra's jacket, "that reminds of the time me brother, Denny, told Missy Hayesben that girls couldn't throw a proper punch."

"Girls can't throw a good punch," JD said, coming back in to the kitchen area.

Chris and Vin grinned at each other while Buck just shook his head. Megan smiled at him and patted his hand as she took his jacket. "Tell that to Denny and the shiner he sported for three weeks."

Vin looked over the munchies spread out and smiled. His voice was barely audible as he mumbled, "Can't believe he remembered."

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find real mesquite flavored pork rinds in Cascade, Runt? Hell, in the state of Washington? You used to live on those things if I remember correctly." Jim smiled at Vin's blush as he came down the stairs, Simon right behind him. "Guys, this is Simon Banks, our Captain."

The seven introduced themselves as they got settled in with a beer and munchies, although Blair did look to Chris for permission before handing one to JD. Buck ruffled his hair at his young friend's disgruntled look.

"You have a truly magnificent view from here, Mr. Ellison. Your rent must be a fortune." Ezra commented from where he stood by the balcony doors.

"Actually I own this apartment, and the name is Jim. Every time I hear Mr. Ellison I turned around to look for my dad."

"As you wish, Mr...Jim."

"This is pretty good, Blair, but something's different. You changed the recipe?" Josiah indicated the pot of chilli still simmering on the stove.

"Ostrich meat. It's sooo much better for you, Tree," Blair grinned as he patted Josiah's ample middle.

"I thought I taught you to respect your elders, son?"

"That's it. Why in tarnation do you keep callin' him a tree?" Buck demanded, plopping down on to the couch. Blair grinned at Josiah, who just heaved a heavy sigh. "Go ahead and tell them."

"Well, ya see..."

"Is this going to be a long story, gentlemen?" Ezra interrupted before Blair could get started.

"Sorta."

"Then perhaps we should start the game before you begin?"

"Aw hell, Ezra, you're just lookin' to take our money sooner rather than later."

"Mr. Wilmington, how quickly I take your money depends solely upon how badly you play."

The others just snickered as Buck heaved himself off the couch, grumbling the entire time, and came to join them.

"Well, I don't know about you boys, but I don't intend to go home with less than what I started with. I must admit I'm a fair hand at the game." Megan smiled, neatly stacking her money in front of her.

"Well, well, the lady is a confident player. What about you, gentlemen? Are you as confident as the lovely Miss Connors?"

"Will you just deal the cards, Ezra, and no cheating. We're guests here," Chris said, munching on some pretzels.

"Mr. Larabee, I am deeply hurt be by your libelous remark. I never cheat, unless of course you can prove I do." He smiled smugly, quickly and easily manipulating the cards through his slim dexterous fingers.

Simon leaned in towards Chris and said conspiratorially, "Do you ever get the feeling that you're not leading highly trained law enforcement agents but unruly kids instead?"

"Every day. Every day."

"All right, gentlemen and one very lovely lady, its five card stud, nothing is wild. Time to lose your money to the superior player."

"So, why do you call Josiah Tree, Blair?" Nathan asked, picking up the cards he'd been dealt.

"It goes back to when we first met. I was about ten at the time and my mom, Naomi and I were living in this religious commune. I don't remember a whole lot of what the guy was spouting, just that it was this really funky take on the New Testament. I don't think Mom believed in it so much as it was a decent place to stay for a while and she had some old friends there. One of the 'rules' was that if you were over the age 15 you took on a new name to symbolize the beginning of your new life in the community. Mom was Summer Rain Falling Gently on Moonlight Waves, or Summer for short."

"You were part of a cult, Josiah?" Nathan looked at the large man in confusion. He was the last person Nathan would ever believe susceptible to being sucked in to one of those things.

"I wouldn't say I was really a part of it, Brother. Like Blair and Summer I found it a convenient place to rest for a time."

"So what were they callin' you?" Vin tossed his cards on the table, folding.

"He was Tall Tree Reaching Ever Upward to the Blue Sky."

Josiah heaved a resigned sigh as he listened to the snickers around the table. He knew he was in for a round of teasing and practical jokes once they got back to Denver.

"So you and Blair's mom were friends in this cult place?" JD asked, frowning thoughtfully at his cards.

"Something like that, son."

"Boy, I have got ta learn you some more about things between men and women."

"What? Oh!" JD blushed bright red as the realization dawned.

"You and Naomi were together, what, two years? I think that's still a record for her. Josiah was like a father to me. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't be here, in more ways than one." Suddenly Blair rose to his feet, folding his hand, and asked, "Anyone need another beer?"

There was a chorus of sures and why-nots as he moved into the kitchen. Jim followed, concerned for his younger friend. Even with all the progress they'd made in repairing their relationship there were still many things Blair kept to himself, letting them eat away at him until even Jim couldn't miss the fact that there was a problem.

"You okay, Chief?" he asked, opening the fridge to pull out the requested beers.

"Yeah, I guess. It's just...never mind."

"No, what is it? I thought we agreed to no secrets? If something is bothering you I'd like to know."

Blair thought a moment before answering. "When I said I looked up to Josiah like a father, I really meant it. Not because he was cool to be with, but because he *listened* to me. Naomi had a lot of boyfriends over the years. Some were nice, some weren't, and most of them just ignored me. Josiah, though, he paid attention to what I had to say and he encouraged my curiosity and my dreams. In a way he was my first mentor in anthropology. He started me on it, showing me his work and it was because of his love for it that I came to love anthropology. He's had to have heard about that damn press conference, or at the very least is wondering why I'm a cop instead of an anthropologist. I know he won't ask until we’re alone, but he will ask. I hate the thought of him being disappointed in me."

Jim heard the unspoken question and the unspoken promise that whatever Jim decided he would abide by it. "Do you trust him, Blair?"

"More than anything in this world. I've already trusted him with my life and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"If he asks then tell him the truth."

"Are you sure, Jim?"

"Yes. If you trust him and it means this much to you, then yes, tell him."

"Thanks, Jim. This really means a lot to me."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't go getting all sappy on me," Jim smiled to take the bite out of his words. "C'mon, we better deliver these before the natives start getting restless."

"Uh, too late."

*********

"Now wait just a minute, Connors. I just threw out that card. How'd you get it?" Simon glared at her, then his cards and back again to her.

"You can't expect me ta believe you really prefer Mr. Fancypants here to me?"

"But he fills out those fancy pants so nicely," Megan said, winking at Ezra who promptly choked on his beer. This led Vin to start pounding on his back until Ezra glared at him. "Would you kindly cease and desist that, Mr. Tanner?"

"Are you telling me I don't fill out my jeans nicely?" Buck demanded, starting to rise from his chair.

"Buck, sit or so help me..." Chris growled.

Buck gave him a hurt look before sitting, although he didn't stay down long as JD said, "Yeah, Buck, sit. Good dog. Hey, you can't kill me here. We're guests."

The two of them went tumbling off their chairs as Buck grabbed him in a headlock.

"Just remember guys I'm off-duty tonight so if you hurt yourselves I ain't patchin' you up!" Nathan had to shout to be heard over the noise they were making.

"Get that odious thing off my plate, Mr. Tanner."

"Oh, come on, Ez, just one try. It ain't gonna kill you. Hey, you made me eat that damn es...es...those damn snails on our last undercover job. Least I ain't asking ya ta eat something slimy."

Conceding the point, Ezra gingerly placed the smallest mesquite BBQ pork rind he could find in his mouth. Jim handed him a beer as he slowly began to turn bright red and sweat formed on his brow from the effort not to gag. Instead he nearly choked as he tried to swallow as much beer as he could to wash down the vile taste.

"That was the foulest thing I have ever had the misfortune to put in my mouth. It is a miracle you have not expired from food poisoning or plain old indigestion yet, Mr. Tanner," Ezra finally managed to gasp out.

"Good ain't they?" Vin chuckled.

"Watch it, cowboy."

"Aw, it didn't do'im no harm."

Chris just raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, Ez."

"Your apology is accepted, but do not think for one minute you will escape retribution."

"Ezra."

"What? Why should I not seek retribution?"

"I said I was sorry."

"And Simon thinks we're bad," Blair commented to Jim. It was Josiah who finally brought everyone back to order.

"Are we playing poker or not?"

The others managed to settle back down although not everyone was a happy camper. After a moment of everyone carefully studying their cards, Chris looked over at Blair, "So why is Josiah responsible for your being here?"

"Why don't you tell them, Tree? You probably remember more about that night than I do."

"All right. Well, as seems to be the trend with most 'cult' leaders, Brother Star saw fit to supplement the wealth of our ‘community', and I say that loosely since we never knew about or saw this extra wealth, with several illegal ventures, including the sale of drugs and weapons. I had only been in the commune about a month at that point. Blair and Summer had been there closer to two months. One evening, despite the curfew that we were expected to follow, I had gone for a walk. This is how I came to hear a most enlightening conversation between Brother Star and unknown man, who was apparently his accomplice. The FBI were on to Star and his activities and were set to raid the commune in a couple of days. Rather than go down for his crimes and be disgraced in the eyes of his followers he decided to pull a Jonestown, spiked fruit punch and all. I talked Summer into leaving the next day, but we weren't allowed to leave the grounds. Apparently Star didn't want to take the chance of anyone getting out and warning the local authorities of what was about to happen.

"What I was unaware of was that there was an agent already undercover in the commune. He had warned the FBI and they moved up the raid catching Star by surprise. The man snapped completely. Started firing on anyone and everything that got in his sights. Didn't matter to him who it was; follower or FBI, man, woman or child. I took a bullet in the side when he turned his gun on Blair." Josiah expression had grown dark at the memories; so many innocents had died that night.

"Jesus, Blair, even as a kid you were a trouble magnet. Why didn't you ever say anything about this?" Jim's eyes had turned an icy blue at the thought that a madman's bullet had nearly prevented him from ever meeting his best friend and Guide.

"Wasn't much to tell, Jim. I really don't remember a whole lot from that night. Just darkness, the sound of gunfire, people screaming, and being absolutely terrified. Most of that are just things I remember from my nightmares."

"I don't understand how people can do something like that? How can you take a gun and aim it at a defenseless child?" There were times when JD just couldn't grasp the concept of the evil that lurked beneath the surface of man.

Buck patted his back comfortingly; "There really ain't an easy answer to that, kid. Some people don't have no respect for the gift of life and how precious it is."

"It really is amazing how one moment can have such an impact on our lives. I'd hate to think what things would be like if you hadn't done what you did, Josiah. And as exasperating as Sandburg can be, I for one am glad he's around." Simon said, the last part spoken with his chin tucked down against his chest as if he was embarrassed by what he'd said.

Josiah smiled and said, "You and me both, Brother. You and me both. Once I was released from the hospital and the FBI decided they wouldn't need us to testify we headed east to Kentucky where a friend of mine had a small farm outside of Lexington. I started working on my doctoral thesis again. About a year and a half later I was asked to go on an expedition to Africa. I asked Summer and Blair to come with me, but Summer decided it was time to move on. Where'd you two head off too? Montana I think it was."

"Yeah, Mom has friends near Missoula. We were only there a couple of months before heading to California. We pretty much criss-crossed around the country after that. We never really stayed in one place for too long. Although there were a few times Naomi would leave me with friends of hers while she disappeared off to wherever. When I was sixteen I passed the entrance exams to Rainier University and stayed on there. Naomi stuck around for a few months, but then she was off again."

"You mean she just left you there, all by yourself?" JD asked, ignoring Ezra's snort.

"It wasn't really any different than any other kid going off to college."

"Yeah, but you were only sixteen? How could your ma just leave you with complete strangers?"

"Pardon me, gentlemen, while I use the lavatory." Ezra tossed his cards on the table as he rose from his chair. Vin watched him go then turned and glared at JD.

"What?"

"You know his ma used ta leave him with strangers all the time."

"Yeah, but it's not like I'm saying that was right neither. I just don't understand how someone could just leave their kid like that is all."

"Kid," Buck said, the exasperation clear in his voice, "some moms have got a real strong maternal instinct and some don't. Maude definitely don't, and it sounds like Blair's mom's instinct took a vacation every now and then. It's just the way the world goes."

"Naomi wasn't a bad mom, JD, just a little flighty."

"Think you're being a little generous there, aren't you, Chief?"

"Shut up, Jim."

Josiah shook his head, "How is she doing now anyway? Lord, it's been a long time since I saw her."

"Hey, Chief, why don't you go show Josiah the pictures you took of her last year?"

"Sure," Blair nodded, "they're in my bedroom."


	6. Chapter 6

As he and Josiah walked across the room he quietly whispered, "Thanks, Jim."

Jim allowed a small smile to flit across his lips before looking up at the others, "All right, boys. I'll see Ezra's five and raise you ten."

Blair chuckled, closing the door, as Buck slapped his cards on the table muttering 'aw hell' and a couple of the others folded their hands. He snagged a couple of photo albums off the bottom shelf of his bookcase and handed them to Josiah who was looking at his display of Chopec items. "Jim and I were in Peru over the summer visiting the Chopec; the tribe that rescued him. Those are some of the things we were given while we visited. The lopsided basket is my bad attempt at making one."

"Rescued?"

"Yeah, that mission Jim and Vin keep referring to? Very long story short, Jim's chopper went down in the jungles of Peru. He was the only survivor and was rescued by the Chopec. Eventually the Army came looking for him and he returned to Cascade."

"I see." And in a way he did. It was obvious, to him at least; that there was a great deal Blair wasn't telling him. While he wasn't familiar with the Chopec specifically, he did know enough about South American tribes to recognize shamanic items. Items that were only given from one Shaman to another. Things, while still complicated, were beginning to make a lot more sense now. Knowing Blair would talk to him when he was ready, Josiah allowed himself to be distracted by the photo albums.

A little while later he smiled sadly, brushing his fingertips over a recent picture of mother and son together, the love evident in their eyes. "She's still so beautiful." He took a deep breath before asking, "How did she take to your becoming a cop?"

"You know Naomi," Blair answered getting to his feet to pace the small confines of his room. "She said she was okay with it and all, but last time she checked in with me she was still in India 'processing' it all. She's been there over a year now."

Josiah grabbed Blair's wrist, halting his pacing. Blair wouldn't look at him though. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the floor.

"Look at me, son." When Blair's gaze finally met his own he had to swallow past the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. There was sadness and shame in the dark blue eyes; but worst of all was the fear. Fear that Josiah would hate him, reject him for the choices he had made and the things he had done. "Blair, son, no matter what has happened or what you tell me I will always love you as my son, even if you are only my son in spirit and not in blood. I will never be disappointed in you. The journey to manhood is a difficult road to travel and no one can say they did not make a few mistakes along the way. I can see that you have grown into a good man, your friends are proof of that. So, please, never feel that you have disappointed me or that I will reject you. I love you too much, my son, to hurt you that way."

He rose to his feet, pulling the younger man in to his arms, holding him tightly as they both wept.

Out in the main room Jim looked up with a start as he realized Simon had been calling his name.

"Sorry, Simon, what'd you say?"

"It's your turn to bid. You okay, Jim? You kind of *zoned* out there for a moment."

"Yeah, just thinking. Really, everything's fine, Simon."

"Ya know, last time I saw ya thinkin' that hard, Captain, you were tryin' ta figure out what to do ta me for that prank I'd pulled on Corporal Myers."

Jim smiled, grateful for Vin's attempt to lighten things up. "So, do you remember what your punishment was?"

Vin blushed and mumbled, "Wish I could forget."

This of course set everyone demanding to know what the punishment had been.

Back in Blair's room Blair finally pulled away, wiping at the tears on his cheeks, and dropped down in to his desk chair. Josiah resumed his own seat on the futon. "Why don't you start from the beginning? Before you do though, I have heard about the press conference last year. Not much, just rumors and hearsay. I'd like to know what really happened from you, son."

Blair nodded, "I figured you had. When I didn't hear from you I figured you'd seen it and didn't want anything to do with me."

"No, son, never. I only heard about it this morning. Not more than ten minutes before we ran in to you and Jim. From what I figure it took place right around the time we were working on a big bust. Ezra and Vin were undercover and had been made; got themselves kidnapped again. Vin wasn't too badly hurt; a few broken ribs, a broken arm, concussion, and a powerful lot of bruises. Nearly lost Ezra though. He spent almost a week on life support." Josiah paused, sucking in a ragged breath, releasing it in a mirthless chuckle. "I don't think any of us left that hospital room the entire time. I think we were afraid he...but he didn't, thank the Lord."

"It sounds like you care about them a lot."

"I do. They're family, just like you are. So, tell me. What happened?"

Blair took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "About five years ago now I was working on my doctoral thesis on Sentinels. You remember what I told you about them, right? Well, a friend of mine at Cascade General called me and told me about a cop who'd come in complaining about noises that were too loud, lights too bright and so on. He was having sensory spikes. I got myself into the hospital, managed to give him my card and told him I knew what was wrong with him. The next day he showed up at my office at Rainier and that was how I met Jim Ellison, fledgling Sentinel. And Jim is a Sentinel in every sense of the word, Josiah. Burton's monograph was only the tip of the iceberg. Some of the things I've seen him do are simply amazing. His senses are so finely tuned it's unbelievable. He can track a person through a crowded street by following the scent of their perfume." Blair gestured excitedly as he talked.

"There have been some downsides to it. Jim has never been happy with the idea of being a lab rat and I am so kosher with that, although occasionally I have been a bit overzealous. He's also had some issues with trust and I've been kicked out of here at least once. I mean, he was really reacting to another Sentinel being in his territory, being near his Guide, but it took getting kicked out and drowned before it really sunk in to me what was happening."

"Wait a minute, he drowned you? And you're still here?"

"Huh? Oh! No, Jim didn't drown me. Alex Barnes, this psychopathic Sentinel who sooo did not understand the concept of protecting the tribe, did. It's this whole big complicated story, but what it pretty much amounts to is Alex drowned me, I started to cross over, but somehow Jim called me back. One minute I'm running through the jungle as my spirit guide, the Wolf, I leaped forward and merged with Jim's spirit guide, the Panther, and the next thing I know I'm coughing up water. Alex is in a mental hospital. She went crazy at the Temple of Sentinels and sent her senses in to complete overload. I've tried a couple of times to bring her out of it, but between the fact that I'm not her Guide and I'm still just a little bitter about being killed, I haven't been able to."

"What do you mean by not her Guide? What's a Guide?"

"Every Sentinel has a Guide, someone to watch their back, especially while using their senses. You see Sentinels are prone to zoning out when they focus too much on one sense. They become lost in it. A Guide is a Sentinel's anchor. The sound of my voice, my heart beat, my touch, even my scent is imprinted on Jim's senses. If Jim zones I'm pretty much the only thing that'll bring him out of it." Blair looked down at the floor, the energy seeming to drain right out of him. "I didn't really understand what being a Guide meant until the whole mess with the press conference and my thesis. Even then I only had an inkling of an idea. Sentinels don't exactly come with manuals. I got greedy. I wanted everything: my thesis and my Sentinel. It doesn't work that way though."

"What happened, son?" Josiah gently asked when he fell silent again. "What caused that press conference to happen?"

"Naomi. No," Blair shook his head, then ran a trembling hand through his hair. "I can't place the blame on her. She was a catalyst, yes, but it wasn't her fault. It's mine. I knew I should have stopped writing that thesis a long time ago, the second I moved in here, but I'd worked so hard for it, you know? I wanted to be able to hold it in my hands and, even if I was the only one who ever saw it, I could still say to myself I had proof. It wasn't until I almost lost him that I realized I had all the proof I ever needed in Jim. If I hadn't been so selfish and stopped writing that thesis Naomi never would have tried to help me by sending it to that damn publisher and the press never would have gotten hold of it. They were hounding him, Josiah. He couldn't do his job properly, he had no privacy. All of his past cases would have been reopened and brought under review. And it was all my fault. I had failed my Sentinel. I failed my best friend. So I did what I could to fix things. I did what was necessary to protect my Sentinel. I went on national television and declared my work and myself a fraud. I destroyed my life to save his."

Josiah didn't say anything. He knew there wasn't anything he could say that would make things easier. Instead he just hugged him close again, wishing like many fathers before him that he could ease the pain of his son.

*********

Jim shifted uncomfortably in his chair, then finally gave up. "I fold," he said, grabbing his beer and heading out on to the balcony. Simon and Megan exchanged worried glances before Simon folded and followed him out.

"Is everything all right, Jim? You've been wound tighter than a coiled spring and you've almost zoned a couple of times now. Do you want me to get Sandburg? Is this a Sentinel thing?" Simon started to get even more worried the longer Jim didn't answer, just continued to stare out at the water. He'd turned to go get Blair when Jim spoke.

"I thought he'd finally made peace with it, Simon."

"Huh?" Simon turned back to find Jim looking at him.

"Blair and that damn press conference. I didn't know he still felt so much guilt about it. How can I be so blind?"

"Jim, it's only been a year. It's still fresh, and I'm sure having to lie to Josiah, whom he apparently really looks up to, is like pouring salt in a still raw wound. These things take time to heal."

"He's telling him the truth."

"About everything? And you're okay with that?"

"I told him to. Blair said he trusted him so I told him to tell Josiah the truth. I'm glad I did, too. I didn't know, I didn't realize how much Blair needed this. Josiah isn't judging him. He isn't judging any of it. He understands mistakes were made but he won't judge his son by them."

"Son? Josiah is his..."

"Not by blood; by heart." Jim looked back out over the bay. "It hurts, Simon, that I can't take away his pain. Knowing that I'm partially responsible for it. What good is being a Sentinel if I can't protect those who are closest to me?"

"You're still a human being, Jim. You still have your limits. Do you know how many times I've wished I could shield Daryl from all the evil in the world? How much I wish I could have protected him from Kincaid? It doesn't work that way. As much as I wish to God it did, it just doesn't. It's part of caring about people. With the joy comes the pain."

"Yeah, well, he's suffered too much."

Simon remained silent, unsure of what to say him.

Meanwhile inside, Megan shrugged when the others looked at her questioningly after Jim's, then Simon's, departure. "Jim gets a bit moody every now and again. Especially if he's concerned about Sandy."

"Why is he worried about Blair?" Nathan asked.

"This last year hasn't been easy for them."

"Because of that press conference?" Vin asked, idly playing with a pretzel.

Megan nodded.

"Why'd he submit that paper if...oomph," JD grunted as Buck's elbow dug in to his side.

"Sandy *didn't* submit that paper. I don't think he ever intended to either, other than as a work of fiction. His mum thought she'd help him by sending his paper to a publisher friend of hers. From there things got worse. The press got a hold of it and suddenly Jim and Sandy couldn't go anywhere or do anything without a mob of reporters following them. Sandy feels like the whole thing was all his fault and the only way he could think to protect Jim's career was to destroy his own. Personally I think the whole thing is his mum's fault and I'm glad she hasn't shown her face around here. Anyway, Jim worries about Sandy. Being a cop wasn't something he'd ever really wanted. And to say things have been difficult with other officers would be an understatement."

"And I thought my mother meddled too much," Ezra commented, retrieving his beer from Vin. "Get your own."

"Maude does meddle too much." Chris glared at Vin as he moved his beer out of the Texan's reach. "I swear if she calls me one more time tellin' me to fire you..."

"She what?!" Ezra stared at him in shock. "You mean to tell me that my mother has been callin' you and tellin' you ta fi-ah me?" His accent thickened so badly they could barely understand what he was saying.

"Now, Ezra," Chris said soothingly, realizing he probably shouldn't have shared that bit of information, "she just thinks she's doing what's in your best interest. She's not doing it to hurt you."

"Ah do not care what she thinks she is doin'! Ah will decide for mah-self what is in mah best interest. She will not get away with this!" Throwing down his cards, he stormed over to their jackets and rummaged through them until he found his cell phone.

"You can't call her, Ez. It's like 11 o'clock in New York," JD said, looking at his watch then shooting a worried look at Chris.

"Oh no. They are not in New York. They are in France at the Chateau. So it is closer to one there."

"Ya had ta tell him didn't ya, cowboy," Vin said shaking his head at Ezra's evil grin that turned to a frown when he over heard the comment.

"Shut up, Vin," Chris growled.

"You knew about this, Mistah Tannah? Hello, Mothah...The only thing wrong is you are not within reach ta throttle. How dare you call Mistah Larabee and ask him...yes, Ah know what time it is, Mothah...no, this will not...She hung up on me!" He immediately hit the redial, staring to pace the kitchen area.

"Ez, maybe ya should wait 'til morning, pard," Buck tried to talk sense to the ruffled Southerner. He fell silent when Ezra just glared at him. They listened as he started shouting into the phone again, only this time he was yelling in French.

Megan looked at him curiously before asking, "I thought he was from Georgia? Why is he shouting in French?"

"He is from Georgia. Maude, however, believes the language of true civility is French," Chris answered. "Funny things is, the only time he uses it is when he's really pissed."

"Pissed?"

"Angry."

"Oh."

Having heard the shouting Blair, Josiah, Jim, and Simon all came back in to the main room.

"What's with him?" Jim asked.

"Is he yelling at Maude?" Josiah looked to Chris who just nodded.

"Chris spilled the beans bout her callin' him ta get him ta fire Ez."

"Thought we decided it would be best he not know about that?"

"It's not like I planned to tell him. It just slipped out," Chris said grumpily, glaring at anyone who dared snicker.

"Why is he yelling in French?" Simon asked.

"Long story. Very long story."

As they sat back down Jim glanced over at Blair, needing to make sure he was all right. Blair caught the glance and smiled, nodding to indicate he was fine. Things were better than fine, but he'd talk with Jim about that later.

Suddenly the shouting stopped and they turned to watch as Ezra very calmly placed the cell phone on the counter. He took a deep breath, retrieved a beer from the fridge as Vin had once again stolen his, and looked back down at the phone. Picking up the phone again, he walked with it and the beer out to the balcony. They watched as he, still very calm, dropped the phone over the side of the rail and listened to it shatter in to a million pieces. A satisfied smile on his face he returned to the table. "My dear mother shall not be bothering you again, Mr. Larabee. I have explained the consequences if she should contact you for anything other than an extreme emergency. I have also explained to her in detail what constitutes an emergency. Shall we continue with the game?"

Everyone just stared at him. Finally Chris managed to say, "You just tossed your phone off the balcony, Ezra."

"Yes, I am aware of that fact, Mr. Larabee."

"You tossed your phone off the balcony, Ezra. You destroyed Agency property."

"Rest assured, Mr. Larabee, that was not the phone given to me by the Agency. That phone is packed in my bag at the hotel. The phone that has met its demise on Mr. Ellison and Mr. Sandburg's sidewalk was given to me by my dear mother."

Vin was the first to start laughing. The others quickly followed, while Ezra just watched in amusement. Finally they settled down and the game resumed. They played a couple of hands, talking mostly about the conference the next day. Blair got up a couple of times to check the chilli. Josiah usually went with him to give him some 'pointers'. Blair's response was usually to just roll his eyes and say, "Uh-huh."

"So, gentlemen," Ezra said finally, "we know how Mr. Sanchez and Sandburg met, how did you two meet, Mr. Ellison? Mr. Tanner?"

"Do you have a problem with first names?" Jim finally demanded, tired of being called Mr. Ellison.

"No, Mr. Ellison. It is impolite to be so informal..."

"I don't care about polite/impolite, formal or not. If you call me Mr. Ellison one more time you're gonna join your phone on the sidewalk. The same way it got there. Understood?"

Ezra stared at him a moment before nodding, "Since you have so eloquently stated your case I shall be more than happy acquiesce to your request, Jim."

"Good."

"Shut up, Vin," Ezra snapped when the Texan snickered next to him. "As I was saying, one would say it is safe to assume you met while in the Rangers. Care to elaborate?"


	7. Chapter 7

"The Captain was the head of the unit I was assigned to out of sniper school. He was the scariest guy on base."

"I wasn't that bad." Jim glared at Blair when he snickered.

Vin just raised an eyebrow, "Captain, I still remember the day Rock Scardini pissed his pants an' all ya did was glare at him an' tell'im no one messed with yer unit."

"I'm surprised you remember any of it with the knock you took to that thick-headed skull of yours. The first time I saw the runt here, he was this scrawny looking kid with a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas; and he was blinking up at me and Lieutenant Martins from the ground where Rock had just laid him out with a solid punch to the head. Martins snaps me a salute and says, 'Sir, may I present Private Tanner, our new sniper.' Vin here attempted a salute, but he must have been seeing double because he ended up smacking himself in the face. Well, knowing Rock and his tendency to pick a fight with anyone that was smaller than him, which included most of the base, I stepped up to him and asked what happened. He starts giving me this story about how Tanner had come in mouthing off, saying he was the best thing since sliced bread. The thing about Rock is he wasn't too bright. Got his nickname from the saying 'dumb as a rock'. So the more I let him ramble the worse the story gets. Finally he winds down to a stop and I say..."

"The Captain says to'im, 'You're sayin' that this little runt just walked right up to you, a complete stranger twice his size, and just started punching? For no good reason?' Rock's standin' there noddin' his head so hard I thought it were gonna fly off. So the Captain says, 'You wouldn't lie to me, would ya?' Rock's getting this scared look on his face cause the Captain's glarin' and glarin' at him. It's the same glare Chris uses when he's pissed bout something. An' Rock starts stutterin', 'No, Captain Ellison, sir. I wouldn't lie to ya, sir.' And the Captain steps up to him so they were face to face, well almost cause Rock was a little taller, an' says; 'I better not find out otherwise because we all know how well I tolerate people messing with my unit. And the private here is a member of my unit. Understand?' An' Rock's noddin' his head again goin', 'Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Wouldn't dare, sir.' An' he's standin' there with his pants wet in a puddle a piss." Vin chuckled evilly, then blushed suddenly remembering Megan was there. "Uh, sorry, ma'am. Didn't mean ta be so crude."

"No worries, Vin. I grew up with 5 brothers. I've heard far worse."

"I thought getting yelled at by Chris was bad. I sure don't ever want to get you mad at me," JD said, amazed that there could be a good guy even scarier than Chris.

"Tanner is just exaggerating. Rock didn't really wet himself," Jim said, shifting a little uncomfortably under JD's awestruck gaze. It didn't help that Blair and Simon kept snickering.

"Sure smelled like it to me. That and he'd bring it up every time he tried ta pound on me."

"Dammit. I knew he'd try something. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Wasn't nothing to say." Vin shrugged. "You already had me training with Sensei Malloy. Didn't see no reason to talk about it."

"You know, Runt..."

"What?" Vin grinned at him.

"You are still the scrawniest, most exasperating, pig-headed, pain-in-the-ass I have ever met. Except maybe Sandburg here."

"Hey! I'm not scrawny. I think we've just been insulted, man."

"Nah. Coming from the Captain that's a compliment."

"I'd say we have different definitions of compliment."

"As long as we all have the same definition of Royal Flush," Ezra lay down his cards, "I believe I've won this hand, gentlemen, my dear."

"Aw hell, Ezra. Why don't I just hand you my wallet? One of these days I'm gonna catch you cheating."

"He didn't cheat," Megan and Blair said at the same time as Ezra said; "I assure you, Mr. Wilmington...pardon me?"

"We probably should have warned you guys, these two," Jim indicated Megan and Blair, "might as well be professionals and we know they cheat."

"Do not. At least we don't cheat in these games."

"Only when we play each other. Makes it more interesting that way."

"That's it! I ain't playin' if any of you three are. I've already lost most of my money to Ezra here. Hey, Blair buddy, when's that chilli gonna be ready? I'm starved." Buck rose from the table and headed towards the simmering pot, Blair hot on his heels.

"Well, I've only got fifty bucks left for the rest of the trip so I'm finished. Wonder if there's anything good on TV?" JD folded his hand and wandered over to the entertainment center.

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air," Vin announced, taking Ezra's new beer with him.

"Mr. Tanner! Vin, return my beverage at once."

"Losers weepers, finders keepers," Vin's voice floated back in to them from the balcony.

"Please, Chris? Just one bullet? I swear on my sainted mother's grave I won't hit anything vital."

"No, Ez. You cannot shoot Vin for stealing your beer."

"You wouldn't say that if it was your beer."

"Yeah, but he didn't take my beer. Deal with it, Ezra." Chris grinned as the Southerner glared at him.

"He still have problems with being cooped up inside for too long?" Jim asked, catching Chris' attention.

"Vin? Yeah. Hates being in crowds or small places. I'm still amazed we managed to get through the plane ride with out incident."

"Tell that to my pair of Armani suit slacks he ruined."

"Hell, Ezra, you're lucky that's all that was ruined. The two of you were twitchier than a pair of espresso addicts." Nathan commented from the couch, shooting a stern glance at JD, he said, "Son, you change that channel one more time you're gonna lose a hand."

"You're afraid of flying?" Megan asked, shuffling the cards for another round. Josiah grinned and went to help Blair keep Buck away from the chilli.

"No, I am not afraid of flying. I simply feel that if we had been intended to fly we would have been born with the proper appendages to do so. Tell me, Miss Connors..."

"Megan."

"As you wish, Megan. Tell me how is it you came to be so well-versed in the art of poker?"

"Her dad's a bookie," Jim answered, rising to his feet and heading out to the balcony to join Vin. Chris raised an eyebrow at Megan; "Your dad is a bookie?"

"Yep. Gambling is legal back home so it's a lucrative profession. He had hoped I'd go into the family business, so he made sure I knew all the tricks of the trade."

"Uh-huh. Well, I quit. Have fun, Ezra." Chris left the table and joined Nathan on the couch. Taking the remote from JD, who was still channel surfing, he put on a sports channel and settled in to watch a baseball game.

"Team leader perk," he said when JD protested.

"And you, Mr. Sandburg? Where did you learn your card playing skills?"

"Blair or Sandburg. Only my students call me mister, and even then I try to get them to call me professor. And my name is not Sandy," he said, shooting a meaningful look at Megan.

"Of course, Sandy," She grinned at his glare.

"As for where I learned to play poker, I picked it up from some of Naomi's friends at one point or another. Then when I was first at Rainier I'd make the rounds of the different games. It helped pay my tuition and board. Where'd you learn to play, Ezra?"

"Mother. If one cannot make their fortune through marriage there is always the gaming tables."

"That seems a little mercenary. I mean, whatever happened to marrying for love?"

Ezra snorted, "You have never met my mother. I never really gave marriage much thought so it hasn't mattered. I do see the game as a chance to study the behavior of others. Something which is remarkably helpful in my line of work."

"I hear that."

"Yes, I believe you do," Ezra said quietly, a small smile on his lips. "Perhaps you'd care to join us for another game? Test our skills against each other?"

"Sounds like fun. How about it, Sandy?"

"Sure. Soon as I'm done here. Buck, you're gonna lose those fingers in a minute, man, if you don't quit it."

********

Outside, Jim leaned up against the rail next to Vin. They both stared out over the bay in silence until Jim asked, "Your friends always this lively?"

"Nah," Vin grinned. "We're pretty calm tonight. Chris is usually ready to have a coronary by this point."

Jim laughed. He could well imagine how exasperating his prank-loving friend could be. Vin's next question sobered him up.

"How long have you been back in the States?"

He turned to look at the quiet young man next to him, noticing the lines of tension in the lean body, the sadness. Jim cursed himself for being an idiot ten times over. "Eight years. I thought you'd heard. Hell, it seems like everyone knew about my rescue. There were enough reporters around."

"Didn't know. Until this morning I thought you were dead."

"God, Vin, I didn't realize...Everything was so hectic when I got back I didn't even know you hadn't re-upped until just before my own discharge. When I got out things were just so weird, but I should have..."

"It's okay, Captain. You had your own things to worry about. You didn't need ta be worryin' bout me as well."

"No, it's not okay. You're family, Vin. I should have at least tried to find you, made sure you were doing all right." Jim looked back into the loft, watching the others. JD had regained control of the remote while Chris, Nathan, and Simon sat talking. Blair and Josiah were in the kitchen getting ready to hand out the chilli. Buck had wandered back over to the table to flirt with Megan while she continued to play poker with Ezra. "You seem to have good friends though. How long have you all been working together?"

"Little over three years now. The guys are great. Ain't none of us perfect, but we stand by each other."

"Only three years? You seem like you've known each other longer. What were you doing before that?"

"There ain't much work out there for an ex-Army Ranger sniper who can barely read n' write. I was approached by a couple of merc groups and one guy was lookin' to make me an assassin. Just didn't seem right to me so I drifted for a bit, picking up odd jobs here and there. I was working at a feed store outside a Tulsa, trying to get some money to fix my jeep when this guy comes in and tries ta rob the place. I stopped him and tied him up until the local sheriff got there to arrest him. Couple of days later the sheriff shows back up and hands me a check for 10 grand. The guy had a bounty on his head and the sheriff figured I deserved it for catchin' him. Right behind the sheriff came this guy, Eli Joe. Turned out he was a professional bounty hunter who'd been tracking the guy I just got paid for. He'd done his homework and knew about my time in the Rangers and as a sniper. Talked me into partnering up with him. I figured why the hell not? Wasn't like I had any better offers. We'd been working together bout six months when we went down to Tascosa, Texas after a bounty. Eli Joe shot and killed the wrong man. Left me holding the bag, so to speak. The guy who'd been killed had been a real good citizen and folks were pissed. Took some doing but my lawyer finally managed to convince the jury it weren't me. Once I was free I lit outta there fast as I could, not that they weren't just as happy to see me go. After that I went back to Denver and Purgatorio. Kept bounty hunting, but I worked solo. Weren't gonna take the chance of something like that happening again. Then three years ago I was tracking a guy and ended up in the middle of a bust that Chris, Buck, Nathan, and Josiah were working on. When it was all over Chris asked me to join the team. Even got Judge Travis to waive the college degree requirement. Been workin' with'em ever since."

Closing his eyes, Jim wished, not for the first time, that he could go back and change yet another mistake he'd made. Because of his own self-absorption another person he'd cared for had been let down. It was nothing short of a miracle that Vin had managed to remain the honest and decent person Jim had known him to be. He hadn't realized he'd been quiet for so long until Vin spoke again.

"I'm sorry, Captain. I know I'm a disappointment to ya..."

"What?" Jim's eyes flew open as he turned to stare incredulously at the sharpshooter. Vin kept his head down, not wanting to see the disappointment, or worse disgust, in the eyes of one of the two men he looked up to most.

"It's all right. I know most people don't think too highly of bounty hunters. An' I know you always expected better from me." Vin trailed off as he felt his chin grasped in a strong hand and lifted until he made eye contact with steel blue eyes.

"Vin, runt, you are not, and have never been, a disappointment to me. You had limited options and you did the best you could. It seems to me you've grown in to a damn fine man and you found yourself good friends, a family to be proud. The only person I'm disappointed in is myself. I should have been there for you. I've hurt so many people I care about because I couldn't see past my own fears."

"I'm a big boy, Captain. I could take care of myself. Been doin' it since I was a kid."

"Yeah," Jim smiled, patting his cheek, "but sometimes you shouldn't have to."

In a rare display of affection Jim pulled him into a hug, whispering to himself, "You shouldn't have to."

Inside Blair looked up in time to see Jim draw the younger man in to a hug. Smiling, he ladled chilli into the waiting bowls. Josiah saw the smile and quirked an eyebrow in question. Blair shrugged, "Just happy that things have gone so well tonight."

"Yes, it's been a good night all around."

"Can I help?" JD asked, wandering over to the counter.

"Sure, JD. Thought you were watching TV?" Blair handed him a couple of bowls with chilli and spoons.

"Was, but Chris took the remote back. Said 400 was more than enough times to watch a movie."

"What movie?"

"Navy SEALs," JD called back as he went to deliver the bowls to those sitting on the couches.

"Actually," Josiah said quietly, a sly grin on his face, "Chris is uncomfortable watching it ever since JD commented that he looked a lot like the guy who leads the SEAL unit but Chris could kick his butt any day."

Blair tried not to laugh, but couldn't help himself, drawing, looks from the others. Josiah just smiled innocently at them while Blair brought himself back under control. "Oh man, that's too funny. It's like the time H started watching reruns of this show on USA network. He said the cop looked just like Jim, only the guy had a better attitude. For weeks after that H kept leaving bags of Twizzlers on his desk cause that's what the cop was always eating. Jim was sooo not happy about it."

Back outside Jim and Vin had returned to taking in the view, occasionally sipping from their beers. Finally Vin slanted a glance at Jim and asked, "So, what happened?"

"I assume we're talking about that mission to Peru?" At Vin's nod Jim continued. "I actually don't remember a lot of it. Basically we were given bad intel. The region we flew into was still hot. There was still a lot of guerilla activity and our chopper was shot down. I was the only one to survive more than a couple of hours after the crash, and the only reason I'm still alive now is because of the Chopec."

"The Chopec?"

"The native tribe that found me and treated my wounds. Most of my time with them is still lost in a haze. Blair figures it's because of my injuries and Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I do know that once I was back on my feet I carried out the mission we'd been given. I organized the tribe into a militia and we guarded that pass. No one got through it we didn't want to get through it. I was with them about 18 months before a unit showed up looking for me. I got back to the States and between debriefing and all the reporters wanting to talk to the HERO LOST IN PERU I guess I just repressed everything even more. It was to the point where my time in Peru was like it happened to someone else. Developed a real attitude problem and joined the Cascade PD. Worked Vice for a couple of years. Got married, got divorced. Then I was moved to Major Crimes where Simon partnered me with this guy named Jack Pendergrast. He managed to keep me from getting myself kicked off the force and taught me some of the social skills I'd apparently forgotten. After Jack died things got tough again for a while. Then this curly-haired hippie kid showed up and things slowly started to get easy again. Hasn't always stayed that way but we've worked through our problems."

"When I got back from that solo mission and heard about y'all being MIA I knew Oliver had to be behind it. Bastard was so smug. Hell, the only thing that kept me from killing the arrogant sonuvabitch was Sensei Malloy. Practically sat on me for a week, talking some sense into me. Though I did get one good punch in. Made sitting in the brig for a month worth it. I was transferred to another base after that and a few months later I got my discharge papers. I wish I coulda proved somehow he was behind it."

"Don't worry about it, Vin. He's already been taken care of." Jim shrugged at Vin's questioning glance. "He showed up here in Cascade a couple of years ago. Tried pulling some shit, even kidnapped me and tried to kill Blair trying to cover his tracks. We nailed him good."

"Good. That bastard needed to be taken down." They shared a feral grin at knowing their friends had been avenged. Vin held up his beer; "To friends we've lost and friends we've found."

"I'll drink to that." Jim clinked his beer against Vin's. Silence surrounded them again, Jim thinking about the past and Vin trying to figure out how to ask his next question.

"Is what he wrote in that paper true?"

Jim glanced sharply at Vin, not sure how he wanted to take that. "What do you know about Blair's thesis?"

"Me an' Ez skipped one of our seminars this afternoon so he could go digging on JD's laptop computer. He found a copy of the thesis and the transcript for the press conference. From what he was able to tell me a Sentinel is a person with enhanced senses. You can smell, taste, and feel things other people can't, see things really far away, same with hearing. It also said Sentinels were the protectors of their tribe and would go to great lengths to protect them. It said you needed a Guide to keep from getting lost in your senses, to watch your back." Vin watched Jim carefully, noting the tension in his jaw and the way his hands tightly gripped the rail. "I've been thinking back to our Rangers days and watching you tonight. Seems to me he's right. You always did have an uncanny ability to know when people were coming or something just wasn't right. And tonight there's been a couple of times when you've reacted to something but none of us even noticed it. Seems to me that if he was a liar and fraud like he told all those reporters he was then I doubt you'd have let him stick around. From what I can figure he did what a Guide is supposed to do, he protected his Sentinel. Am I right?"

Jim nodded curtly. "Have you told any of the others?"

"No. Ezra's come to his own conclusions I'm sure. He's good at reading people. It's what makes him such a good undercover guy. He's also got his own share of rumors about being on the take. Ain't true, but Ez didn't bother to fight it. Figured there wasn't anything he could do that wouldn't just make them think it even more. He don't judge people on what he hears from others. He judges'em by what he sees and hears from them. The others don't need to know about it. They seem to be giving Blair a chance; they'll make up their own minds about why he done it, whether there's any truth to it."

"Sandburg's a good kid. Reminds me a lot of you in some ways. The whole thing with that damn thesis was a mess. Things could have been handled a lot better by both of us. It was hard to get back the trust between us. Actually, it took spending close to a month with the Chopec last summer to get it back. There was so much we didn't know about the bond between Sentinel and Guide. So much we took for granted. Now I'll do whatever's necessary to protect him, and I know he'll do the same for me. It was like two pieces of a puzzle that you just knew went together, but no matter how hard you tried wouldn't fit. We fit now. Doesn't matter what happens now. He can move out, get married, have a separate life, but the bond will always be there." Jim was quiet for a moment, before turning to look him square in the eyes. "Whatever happens in your life, Vin, you have good friends in there, don't let go of them. There isn't anything that can't be worked through. Don't learn the hard way like I did."

"I understand, Captain. I don't intend to let them go without a fight."

"Good. Why don't we go and get some of Blair's chilli before the others eat it all."

"Sounds great. Hope he makes it hot. Ain't nothin' better'n hot as Hell chilli, Captain."

"It's hot all right, and you know, runt, it's just Jim now. Haven't been Captain in eight years."

"Yeah, well I ain't been called runt in nine, so we're even." Vin grinned, ducking as Jim reached out to smack the back of his head, muttering, "Runt."


	8. Chapter 8

"Woo-ee! This is good chili, Blair. Tastes a lot like Josiah's," Buck complimented, having already wolfed down half the bowl JD had handed him.

"It should. It's my recipe," Josiah said, patting Blair on the back.

"With a few modifications. I wouldn't eat that so fast, Buck."

"Why not? Oh, Jesus H Christ that's hot! Oh God! Hand me a beer. Someone hand me a beer!" Buck's chest heaved like a bellows pump as he sucked in deep gasps of air, trying to cool the sudden inferno in his mouth. JD quickly handed him his beer, which Buck drained in one gulp before grabbing Chris and Nathan's beers. Blair handed him a glass of water and some bread.

"Some of the herbs I use have a latent potency. As long as you eat slowly you're fine."

"What's wrong with Bucklin?" Vin asked, as he and Jim came back inside.

"I'd say he just found out the hard way not to eat Sandburg's chili too fast," Jim smirked, leaning against the pillar by the balcony door.

"Why dontcha warn a guy next time?" Buck grouched once the burning sensation had eased a little.

"Brother Buck, if you don't know better than to eat unknown chili slowly I'd say it's the good Lord's way of reminding you." Josiah grinned evilly.

"Quit complaining, Buck, it's not like it'll kill you. 'Sides, weren't you the one who poured a whole bottle of Tabasco sauce on top of Inez's super hot buffalo wings last week?" Nathan raised an eyebrow at the ladies man.

"Actually, that was me, Nate," Vin smiled sheepishly, taking the bowl JD handed him. "Thanks, kid. Buck took some before I put the sauce on."

"Runt, here likes his chili real hot. Think yours will do it, Chief?" Jim asked, stirring up the bowl JD gave him.

"It should. If not, I have this...Jim, NO!" Blair looked over in time to realize Jim had the wrong bowl, but not to stop him from putting the spicy food in his mouth. The others looked up in surprise at his shout of warning, watching as he dropped his own bowl in his rush to get to Jim.

Expecting the mild version that Blair usually made for him, Jim opened up his sense of taste and smell just as he took a bite. Before he could even think to spit it out his senses spiraled out of control and he was lost. Everything disappeared into the raging inferno that surrounded him. The flames used up the precious air making him gasp for breath. Something rasped against his skin, burning, making him try to pull back, but it held tight until a new sensation was felt. It was a steady thumping beneath his fingertips. Then a familiar, soothing voice cut through the inferno, slowly pushing it back.

The moment Jim's body went ridged and he began gasping for air Vin was on his feet. "Captain?"

"Sandy?"

"Good Lord, he's choking."

"What the hell? Nathan?" Chris was on his feet in an instant, turning to Nathan, who was already pushing past him.

"He's having an allergic reaction. Someone call 911. Let me help him, Blair."

Blair ignored the others, pushing away Nathan's hands, he hissed, "Don't touch him, you'll make it worse. We don't need an ambulance, Simon."

Simon didn't need further explanation and took the phone from JD. He watched in concern as Blair went to work. "Give them room, guys. Blair knows what he's doing."

"But..." Nathan started to protest, stopping when Simon clamped a hand on his shoulder.

"This isn't something medicine can fix."

"What's going on, Buck? Why won't they let Nathan help?" JD edged closer to his 'big brother'.

"Don't know, JD. But this guy better know what he's doing or else."

Blair paid little attention to them, focusing on Jim instead, although he'd heard Buck's threat. He'd deal with it later. For now he continued to speak in low, soothing tones to his Sentinel. "Come on, Jim; come back to me. You're giving everyone a scare here. Just listen to my voice, feel my heartbeat." He placed Jim's hand over his heart and held it there. "You know the drill, big guy. Just dial it down. One click at a time until it's gone. One step at a time. Follow my voice, Jim; follow it back. That's it. Nice, easy breaths. You're almost there. That's it."

Coming out of the zone, he slumped forward into Blair's arms. He was still gasping a little, but it wasn't the panicked hyperventilating from before. As he got his breath back, he asked, "Chief?"

"You zoned, man. Big time. Here, drink this," He handed Jim a glass of milk and a piece of bread. "The bowls of chili got switched. How many times have I told you to smell your food before you eat it? If we'd been in a restaurant..."

"I know, Chief. I got it. Always smell food first. Don't think I'll forget it."

"Damn well better not. You doing better?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a headache now, and a slight burning sensation in my mouth. Damn, you make hot chili."

"Yeah, well, now you know why I give you the mild version."

"Would someone care to explain just what in hell is goin' on here?" Buck demanded, tired of being ignored. Blair was on his feet and in Buck's face before he could blink.

"How dare you accuse me of not knowing how to protect my Sentinel!"

Buck gulped certain he'd just heard the sound of a wolf snarling. He held up his hands in defeat, "I'm sorry. I just..."

"He didn't mean anything by it, Blair," Josiah said soothingly, when Buck seemed at a loss for words. "He didn't know what was happening and was concerned."

"What was happening, Josiah? Blair?" Chris asked, glaring at all of them, waiting for an answer.

Blair seemed to deflate and he sank down on to the couch next to Jim. Leaning his head back, he covered his face with his hands, wishing the whole nightmare would go away. Jim rubbed a tired hand over his face, might as well get it over with. "Chief?"

"Aw hell, man. In for a penny in for a pound." Jim shook his head at Blair's muffled words.

"This is to go no farther than here. Only a few people know the truth and we'd like to keep it that way."

"Just what is the truth?" Pale green eyes met ice blue eyes in a challenging glare. Both were used to being in control and both would do whatever was necessary to protect their chosen families. Chris felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he watched Jim's eyes shift. One moment they were normal pale blue human eyes, the next they were yellow cat’s eyes. He blinked and it was gone, making him wonder if he hadn't imagined it.

Jim rose to his feet, holding Chris' glare. "I am a Sentinel, and Blair is my Guide. The only lie that was told is when Blair declared his work fraudulent."

"Well, hell." Buck dropped down on to the second couch. Then he frowned in confusion,

"What exactly is a Sentinel? And a Guide?"

"Chief? Maybe you should explain this?"

"It'll probably be easier to show them. Smell and hearing would probably be easiest."

"All right," Jim said with a shrug. He sniffed lightly, testing the air, before extending his sense of smell a little farther and sneezed. "Well, first Buck is wearing way too much Brute cologne. Larabee is wearing Aspen, and Ezra has on Tommy for Men. He also uses an herbal scented shampoo, kind of like yours, Chief, only his has an underlying scent of vanilla while yours is ginger. JD has two sticks of spearmint chewing gum, a breath mint, and a chocolate bar in his pocket. His heart rate just increased as well. Is that enough?"

"I'm still not sure I understand," Chris said.

"Jim has enhanced senses," Blair spoke up, "beyond the range of normal people's. He's a genetic throwback if you will. In primitive cultures tribes had a guardian, a Sentinel, to watch over them. He would warn of impending attack, or track the game needed for the tribe's survival."

"What about you?" Nathan asked. "He called you his Guide."

"Every Sentinel has a Guide, someone to watch their back and to prevent them from zoning. That's what happened earlier. Jim zoned on the taste of the chili because it was far too spicy for his enhanced senses to handle. I suspect Vin got the bowl Jim was supposed to get. I provide an anchor for him to focus on when he using his senses to prevent a zone out."

"So you're kind of like Superman?" JD asked, his eyes wide and his fingers nervously twisting in his shirt, unsure if he should be awed or frightened.

"I'm most definitely not Superman, kid. I'm all too aware of my faults; and enhanced senses don't mean squat when you can't protect the ones you care about."

"I think we can all understand that feeling, Brothers," Josiah spoke quietly; looking in turn at the six men he called family. "I also think, with the evening's excitement, it is perhaps time we took our leave. We do still have to attend the conference tomorrow and the hour has grown late. Why don't we all meet for breakfast in the morning at the hotel?"

"I'd say that sounds like a good idea, Josiah," Simon answered for Jim and Blair. The others silently nodded and collected their coats. No one spoke, unsure of what to say. Josiah and Blair hugged, while Jim and Vin clasped forearms. Then Vin gave him a cocky salute making Jim shake his head and grin. Everyone shook hands, although Megan surprised everyone by kissing Ezra on the cheek. He blushed a little and mumbled, "Good night, my dear."

Simon closed the door behind the last of the seven departing men and turned to face Jim and Blair, who had resumed their seats on the couch. Megan glanced at Simon from the kitchen where she was putting dishes in the sink. With a nod and a slight tilt of his head Simon indicated she should follow him into the living room area. Simon cleared a space on the coffee table to sit on, knowing Jim wouldn't be happy when he realized it. Megan sat in the arm chair to the left of Simon. Neither man acknowledged their presence. Blair was studying the ceiling, while the floor had Jim's undivided attention.

"Are you two all right with this?" Simon asked after a moment of continued silence.

Jim glanced up, meeting his friend's gaze with a slight twist to his lips that might almost be considered a smile. "Yeah, Simon. We're okay. Just hadn't really planned on telling all of them."

Blair groaned, still looking at the ceiling, "I am so sorry, Jim. I never meant to just blurt it out like that. But when Buck insinuated I'd let anything happen to you I just..."

"It's okay, Chief. I understand. Besides this whole mess is really my fault. If I'd been paying attention to what I was eating it wouldn't have happened."

"But if I had..."

"Stop," Simon said sternly, cutting Blair off before he could come up with another way to blame himself. "It was an accident. Neither one of you are to blame or both of you are to blame. It's happened and that's that. Do you understand me?"

Both men nodded silently. Simon gave them a long look before rising to his feet. "We're gonna head out now. I'll see you at the conference tomorrow."

Jim and Blair followed them to the door. Megan gave a Blair a quick hug, and patted Jim's arm. "Everything will work out, boys. You'll see."

"Thanks, Megan," Blair said with a smile.

"I hope you're right, Connors," Jim closed the door behind them.

"Well, that was an interesting evening. Do you think we'll have anything to worry about?" Blair asked as he moved into the kitchen, heading for the sink. Jim followed, moving to put the items on the counter away.

"Vin trusts them, as does your friend Josiah. They seem like a decent group."

"Yeah, I thought so too. How did he take it when you told him?"

"When I told who what?"

"When you told Vin about your abilities while you were out on the balcony."

"How'd you know I told him?" Jim turned to look at the smaller man who had his back to him, his arms buried to the elbow in the sink.

Blair glanced over his shoulder at him, "When you said it was alright for me to tell Josiah, I just assumed you were going to talk with Vin about it if he brought it up. Vin didn't seem at all surprised by the whole thing when we told the others so I just assumed you had told him earlier."

With a shake of his head, Jim started drying the clean dishes, "More like he told me about it."

"Huh?"

"Apparently him and the Southerner skipped one of their seminars to go dig up your thesis and a transcript of the press conference from the web. Vin seemed okay with the whole thing. Actually I think he approved of what you did. Said you were doing what a Guide's supposed to. He also thinks I might have been using some of my abilities even while I was in the Rangers. Picking up on things before others did." Jim paused for a second, considering, then turned to look at Blair, "You might want to talk with the runt. See if he'll let you do some tests with him."

"You don't think..."

"I'm wondering. Back then his eyes were even better than mine and his hearing was almost as good. It's part of why he was a sniper, and he's sharp-shooting for Larabee now."

"I'll talk to him. See if I can't arrange something before they head back to Denver. If he is a Sentinel I wonder who his Guide is? If he's zoned before someone would have had to bring him out of it."

"Larabee maybe? They seemed pretty close."

"I'll talk to Vin about it. Any other dishes need cleaning?"

"No, this is it. Don't worry, Chief. I'll leave the vacuuming until tomorrow. Think it's time for some shut-eye."

"Sounds good to me, man."

"Everyone seemed to have a good time tonight."

"Yeah, they did. Megan seemed to really like the Southerner, Ezra."

"Hmm, they did get along pretty well, but there's nothing there."

"Huh? What does that mean? How do you know?"

Jim grinned, heading up to his room. At the top of the stairs he turned to look at his best friend and Guide, "No pheromones, Chief. No pheromones."


	9. Chapter 9

"Well, that certainly was an enlightening evening," Ezra commented, breaking the silence in the mini-van as they drove back to the hotel.

"That's one way of putting it."

"And how would you put it, Mr. Jackson?"

"Weird," Nathan said with a disbelieving shake of his head. He was still trying to come to terms with the whole thing. It just didn't make logical, medical sense. "I still can't believe he just shoved me away like that. I was trying to help."

"Don't take it personally, Brother. Blair knows you only wanted to help, but at the time he was more concerned about Jim. From what Blair told me the only thing that won't hurt a Sentinel in a zone out is his Guide's touch. Unknowingly you could have caused Jim a great deal more pain."

Nathan nodded to indicate he'd heard before turning to look out the window. He found it hard to process the thought that he could have caused more harm than good in an attempt to help. He was an EMT. He knew how to help people.

"So what do we do now?" Buck asked.

"Do about what?" Chris glanced in the rearview mirror at his oldest friend. He knew what Buck was asking but was unwilling to voice it himself.

"This whole Sentinel thingy. How are we supposed to act around them? Can we talk about it in public or is this all hush-hush?"

Vin opened his mouth to answer, but JD beat him to it. "We've been trusted with a big secret. It don't matter that they hadn't intended to tell us at first, cause in the end they did. Now they're expecting us to keep that secret. I'd say it's something we don't discuss in public unless they bring it up. Blair went through a lot of trouble to get people to believe his paper wasn't true. I hate to think one of us would make all that suffering pointless by blabbing the truth to the wrong person."

They had all turned to stare at JD as he spoke. Chris even pulled over the mini-van so he could look at their youngest member.

"Well, shoot," Buck mumbled, hearing the truth and wisdom in the kid's words.

"Well put, Mr. Dunne. Very well put," Ezra said with a nod and a pat on the younger man's knee.

"JD's right about it making what they went through meaningless, but there's other reasons why it ain't a good idea ta go talkin' about it."

"What kind of reasons?" Chris met Vin's gaze and almost wished he hadn't asked the question.

"You all know a lot of my time in the Rangers is heavily classified? Hell, there are some things I don't think even the President has clearance ta know. Anyway, what I can tell you is after the Captain and the others went MIA I was transferred to another base and labeled a troublemaker, a loose cannon."

"That's a good one, Junior," Buck laughed. "What'd you do? Put a whoopie cushion in the wrong General's chair?"

"Nah. It was on account I attacked a superior officer without just cause."

Buck halted mid-laugh when he caught the serious tone. He looked the sharpshooter in the eye, catching a glimpse of the feral hunter that often lurked just beneath the laid-back exterior. "Hell, you're serious."

"Damn straight."

"Why may I ask did you attack a superior? I'm sure you had proper justification even if you couldn't prove it. I'm just curious."

"He was the man responsible for the bad intel that got them shot down in Peru. I'm sure he did it deliberately but I couldn't prove it then or provide a motive. I was court-martialed, but enough people stood up for me that I only spent a month in the brig, then I was transferred. After my transfer I did a lot of loan-out work."

"Loan-out work?" Nathan questioned.

"Yeah. I was loaned out to just about every alphabet agency we got and some we don't." Vin shook his head, clearing away the memories. "The point is if some a them agencies ever got a hold of the Captain and Blair....Let's just say death'd become a mighty tempting prospect."

Each of them contemplated that thought and none of them liked the scenarios they came up with.

"So what do we do?" JD asked.

"Might I suggest we return to the hotel, get a good night's sleep and on the morrow treat them the same as we would any other associate? As far as this Sentinel business it should only be brought up in private and for the most part when they initiate the discussion."

"For once I agree with Ezra. That seems like the best plan," Nathan said, casting his vote. One by one they agreed and Chris resumed the drive to the hotel. Chris couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring, not realizing that the others were thinking the same thing.


	10. Chapter 10

Back at the hotel the seven men said good night as they headed to their rooms. Buck was sharing with JD, Nathan with Josiah, Vin with Ezra, and Chris had his own room. The doors had just closed when Vin's voice rang out.

"Chris!"

The door was flung open as five men rushed through it. They stopped in the doorway, staring at the wreckage. At first glance it looked as if the contents of both men's bags had been strewn across the room. Upon closer inspection they realized all of Vin's things were still packed in his bag. Only Ezra's possessions had been ransacked. Most chilling though was the sight of Ezra's second cell phone on his pillow. The intruder had put a single bullet through it, sending a very clear message.

Shaking himself from his shock, Chris started issuing orders. "Buck, go get the hotel manager. JD, use a cell phone and call the PD. See if you can get Banks or someone in Major Crimes. Vin, check the doors and windows. See if you can tell how they got in. Nathan, see if you can get a hold of the conference coordinator. They've got a bunch of forensics equipment down in one of the conference rooms. See if we can borrow it. Ezra...Ezra? Shit, Josiah, grab him!"

While the others had been talking or going about their appointed task Ezra had stepped up to the dresser. A photo had been stuck into the frame of the mirror. With a trembling hand he reached up to pull it out. Staring at the photo a tidal wave of fear swept through him. Mind-numbing, paralyzing fear like he hadn't felt in a very long time held him rooted to the spot. Never mind that every instinct he had was screaming at him to run, to get as far away from there as possible before the nightmare began again. Before he lost his friends to the demon from his past.

He didn't hear Chris call his name the first time. The second time it broke the paralysis and he gave in to that inner voice. Without thought he bolted for the door. Josiah managed to grab him as he went past, wrapping both arms around him in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides.

Josiah felt like he'd just grabbed onto a twister as the Southerner squirmed and wriggled, lashing out with his feet, trying to get away. Buck and Chris immediately moved to help subdue Ezra. Chris got a foot to the stomach, while Buck was head-butted then kicked. Nathan started to move in worried about the uneven breathing, the far too wide open eyes, and the absolute panic and terror on the smaller man's face but Vin waved him back.

Moving closer but staying out of kicking range, Vin began to speak in a calming tone, "Ezra? Can ya hear me, Ez? I need ya ta calm down. No one's gonna hurt ya. I won't allow it. Easy, Ez, jes' take it easy. You're safe here. We won't let anyone hurt ya. You've got my word on it. It's all right, Ez. You're safe."

The other four men watched Vin speak soothingly to the Southerner, slowly inching his way closer. The panic and terror had begun to ease from his features. There was still fear, but not as overwhelming as before. None of them moved or spoke for fear of breaking the calm Vin seemed to be weaving around Ezra. Finally he was directly in front of him and gently reached to cup Ezra's face with both hands. "Trust me, Ez."

The moment they touched Vin felt a shock go through him and he knew Ezra did too from the way he stiffened. The hotel room and their friends disappeared in the blink of an eye. Vin found himself standing on the edge of a small clearing in a forest, not unlike the forest surrounding Chris's ranch. In the middle, facing away from him, was the biggest Cobra he'd ever seen in or out of picture books.

Its hood was at full display as it swayed back and forth, waiting for the perfect moment to strike its victim. In this case it was a brown and gold lynx, who was hissing and growling, but its reach was too short to do any damage to the cobra. Behind the lynx was Ezra, his terrified gaze held by the cobra. Before Vin could yell at Ezra to run the roar of an angry cougar surrounded him. The large yellow feline lept into the clearing drawing the attention of the cobra. He locked gazes with Ezra and heard, "Help me," as clearly as if the man were standing next to him. Just as quickly as it had appeared the clearing and the three animals were gone again. He watched as Ezra's eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he went limp in Josiah's arms.

Josiah was the only one able to see Vin's eyes widen and feel Ezra stiffen at the contact. There was a brief moment when the world stood still. He felt something brush against his soul and, as if from a great distance, he heard the angry hiss and growl of a cat and the roar of a larger cat. He started to wonder what it meant but the sudden collapse of the man in his arms brought his attention to more current events.

Nathan left JD tending to Chris and Buck and hurried to where Josiah and Vin had lowered Ezra to the floor. He knelt beside him, one hand automatically searching for the pulse while the other gently pulled up his eyelids to check his pupils. With a satisfied nod he looked at the others. "He'll be alright. Just passed out is all. Why don't we move him over into your room, Chris?"

"Yeah, good idea. Josiah, Vin, stay with him. I don't want to take the chance of him bolting again before we find out what spooked him. All right everybody, let's get to work. I'm fine, Nathan." Chris waved him off when he moved forward to help him to his feet. "Just a little sore. Glad though that he didn't get me any lower."

"Same here, pard," Buck groaned, holding his stomach while JD supported him.

"He wasn't tryin' ta hurt ya," Vin said, helping Josiah lift Ezra into his arms.

"Sure felt like it, cowboy."

"Ez knows enough dirty tricks that he could have taken you both and Josiah out. He wanted out but he didn't want ta hurt ya doin' it."

"How do you know what kinda dirty tricks he knows?" Buck asked.

"Sparred with him a time or two," Vin said with a small grin and followed Josiah out of the room.

**An Hour Later**

Stepping out of the cab, Carlos frowned at the sight of four police cruisers sitting in front of the hotel.

"Something wrong?" Trent asked coming up next to him with both their bags.

"Not sure. Just wondering why all these cruisers are here."

"Uh, Carlos, buddy? It's a cop convention."

"Ha. Ha. I'm serious. I've been to these conventions before. On duty cops don't go to these things, nor do they show up in their cruisers this late at night. Something's up."

"Well, let's go check-in and find Vin. He'll probably have..." Trent's voice trailed off for a moment as he spotted a familiar face, then; "Captain! Captain Ellison!"

He trotted over to where the larger man had stopped, a smaller man with dark, curly hair stopped beside him.

"Malloy? What are you doing here?" Jim asked, frowning at the surprise appearance of the blonde. He glanced briefly at the Latino walking behind his old friend, but was more concerned about Trent's arrival in Cascade.

"Actually I was looking for you, Captain. Well, you and Tanner. I was told you were both here in town. I've got bad news, Captain."

"Think it's got anything to do..." the long-haired guy started to say.

"It could, Chief. We were just on our way up to see Vin and his friends. The room him and his partner are staying in was ransacked tonight. Runt is in the ATF now. I'm a Major Crimes detective here in Cascade. This is my partner, Blair Sandburg."

"Nice to meet you." Trent quickly shook hands with Blair. "This is my partner Carlos Sandoval. I retired from the Rangers about six months ago. We have our own PI firm. Carlos is former Dallas PD. Was anyone hurt? Anything taken? Any 'presents' left behind?"

"Whoa, slow down, Malloy. We only just got here. C'mon. We'll get you past the guards the PD posted."

Inside it only took a few minutes to get them registered once Jim vouched for them. Once in the elevator, Jim turned to Trent. "All right, Malloy. What's going on that you high-tailed it here to Cascade as fast as you could?"

Trent closed his eyes for a moment, visibly swallowing. The feel of Carlos's hand on his back made him open his eyes and smile slightly in thanks. He met Jim's gaze evenly. "Moran escaped from Leavenworth."

"WHAT?!" Jim immediately slapped the emergency stop button, halting the elevator.

Carlos took a protective step closer to Trent while Blair looked anxiously from his glaring Sentinel to the lanky blonde facing him.

"I found out this afternoon. Moran escaped and is definitely coming after you and Vin."

"You're absolutely certain? I haven't received any notification, nor has Vin that I know of."

"Yeah, Captain, I'm certain. Moran sent the message through my younger brother."

Jim's features softened slightly in sympathy. "Damn. Will he be...?"

"Yeah. Mostly superficial wounds. Nothing like what that bastard did to Vin and the others."

"Good. Did you..."

"A couple of friends in the Texas Rangers have put my family in protective custody just in case. I came straight here to warn you and Vin."

"I assume you haven't told Vin yet?"

"No. Haven't had a chance to." Trent paused, shrugging slightly. "And I figured it would be better if I told him in person with you around. I know he isn't going to take this well."

"Uhm, someone want to tell me what's going on? What are you talking about? Who is this Moran person?" Blair asked, tired of being the only one without a clue.

"Sergeant Andrew Moran. An instructor for the Rangers. Went psychotic one day and decided to put a group of six new Ranger recruits through an impromptu POW training. Vin was one of the six and the only one who managed to retain enough of his sanity to continue on full active duty. Basically this guy is Vin's biggest nightmare," Jim told him, his glare darkening further with each word. "At least we know who ransacked Vin and Ezra's room now."

"I'm not so sure about that, big guy," Blair said, hitting the release button so the elevator resumed moving.

"What do you mean? Their room was wrecked and a bullet put through one of their cell phones."

"Yeah. Ezra's cell phone, and only Ezra's things were ransacked. No, the whole thing was too specifically aimed at Ezra for it to be someone after Vin. Plus, there's Ezra's reaction to the whole thing."

"Ezra's reaction? When'd you find all this out, Chief?"

"I talked to JD while you were in the bathroom. He says Ezra freaked. Tried to run and then passed out after kicking both Chris and Buck when they tried to stop him. I'd say we have two demons among us."

Before anyone could say anything else the elevator door opened. Stepping out into the hallway they saw Josiah coming out of a room, gently closing the door behind him.

"Tree," Blair called out, heading towards him.

"Long story," Jim said at Trent and Carlos' curious looks. He strode down the hallway to catch up with Blair, Trent and Carlos following.

"Blair. Jim." Josiah gripped Blair's shoulder and nodded to Jim. "When I said we need to get together again soon this wasn't what I had in mind."

"It usually isn't," Jim said with a tight smile. "Any ideas on who might have done this?"

"No, but I suspect Ezra does." Josiah noticed Trent and Carlos standing behind the two men. "Who are your friends?"

"Sorry. Trent Malloy, former Army Ranger, and Carlos Sandoval, former Dallas PD. They're both PIs now. Vin and I were stationed at the same base with Malloy."

"I see. It's nice to meet you, gentlemen. I wish it was under less trying circumstances."

"As do we," Trent agreed, shaking his hand. Carlos nodded and shook his hand also.

"What brings you to Cascade?"

"Well, uh...," Trent looked to Jim.

"We've got another problem to mix in from our Ranger days. Vin's not gonna be happy about it," Jim answered, already starting to grind his teeth together.

"I'd better take you to see Chris then. Vin's in with Ezra right now."

"Is he alright?" Blair asked starting to move towards the door. Josiah stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"He's fine, son. Well, physically anyway." Josiah sighed tiredly. "Something has frightened him badly. I've never seen him react this way. I think it's best to just give him some time right now. Vin will keep an eye on him. Everyone's in here."

Josiah stepped up to the room door next to the one he'd come out of, knocked twice, then opened it. He wasn't surprised to find four of the rooms occupants facing the door with their guns out. The other two waited to see what would happen. "It's just me, brothers. Jim and Blair are here along with a couple of friends of theirs."

Chris, JD, Nathan, and Buck replaced their guns in their holsters.

"Jim. Blair." Chris nodded to them. "We were just going over things with Simon and Joel here."

"Find anything yet?" Jim asked.

"Nothing much of use. Why don't you take a look around?" Simon suggested.

Jim nodded and began walking around the room, Blair a step behind him to watch for an impending zone out. The others watched for a few minutes as he worked, then Chris turned to Trent and Carlos still standing by the closed door.

"You're friends of Ellison's?"

"I knew him and Vin from our days in the Rangers. Trent Malloy." Trent shook hands with everyone.

"Carlos Sandoval," said Carlos as he also shook their hands. "I'm just along for the ride and to keep Trent here out of trouble."

Trent snorted. "Seems it's usually the other way around, friend."

"You here in Cascade just to visit or is there..."

"Hey, Chris, I think Jim's got something," Buck interrupted. Everyone watched Jim frown thoughtfully as he lifted a shirt that had been carefully laid out on a chair to his nose. He shook his head a little as if to clear it, then leaned in close to Blair and sniffed. Jim then moved to the head of the bed with the cell phone on it and once again sniffed. He nodded his head.

"I'm sure of it, Chief. I can smell it. Who ever is after Ezra is getting off on the whole thing."

"Getting off on it? How can you tell?" Josiah asked.

"I can smell the pheromones."

"You can actually smell pheromones and identify them?" Nathan asked incredulously.

Jim blushed faintly, while Blair chuckled. "Yeah, he picks up on them real easy."

"Shut up, Sandburg." Jim mock-growled.

"I don't get it." JD said looking at the Cascade detectives who were trying not to snicker.

"Pheromones are the scent we give off when we're attracted to someone. Jim's enhanced sense of smell allows him to pick up on them a bit easier than the normal person," Blair explained. "He also reacts a little quicker to it than most people. It's gotten him into a couple of embarrassing situations."

"You talk too much, Chief," Jim growled, playfully smacking the back of the younger man's head. He sniffed around some more, sneezing suddenly. A fit of sneezing over took him until Blair flung open one of the windows and led him over to it.

"What is it, man? What set you off?" Blair asked in concern.

"Ammonia. I can't even tell if it's a man or a woman. It's covering all the other scents except the pheromones in those two spots."

"Think it has anything to do with why we're here, Captain?" Trent asked.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible triggers. See end note for more detail

"I do not know how you gentlemen might be involved, but I am very familiar with the miscreant responsible for this," Ezra said from the doorway, his soft accent doing little to mask the inner turmoil he felt. Vin hovered protectively behind him, not liking the way the Southerner still trembled.

"You know who did this" Simon asked, gesturing at the trashed room.

Ezra rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Yes, I do."

Considering the state Ezra was in, Chris knew this was not going to be a short answer and this was not the place to discuss it. "Is there some sort of lounge or something on this floor?" Chris asked the room at large.

"I believe I saw the hotel manager in the hallway, Brother."

Chris yanked open the door and glanced around the hallway. Spotting the manager he demanded, "Is there some sort of lounge or something on this floor?"

"Yes there is, Agent Larabee," the hotel manager jumped forward, nervously wringing his hands. "I can have it closed off and put at your disposal for however long you need it. The hotel is very sorry about this unfortunate occurrence. Please accept..."

Chris held up a hand cutting the man off. "That'll be fine. Go make sure it's empty. We'll be there in a minute." Once he was gone Chris turned to look at his undercover agent who was looking at the floor. "Could you guys give me a minute with Ezra here?"

Reluctantly, everyone but Vin filed out of the room. Jim paused in the doorway, watching the silent exchange between the three men. Vin touched Ezra's shoulder, earning a sad fleeting smile and a brief nod. Another brief, almost imperceptible, nod was exchanged between leader and sharpshooter. Seemingly satisfied, Vin followed Jim out the door, closing it behind them.

Chris waited for Ezra to look at him before speaking. "You okay, Ezra? You're not going to try and bolt again?"

"No, and I do apologize for that, Mr. Larabee. It was purely a protective gesture."

"Hell, I don't blame you, Ezra. If I knew in no uncertain terms someone was trying to kill me my first instinct would be to run too."

"You mistake my meaning. He will kill me eventually, but I will be last."

It took Chris a moment to understand what Ezra was trying to say and when he did an icy hand gripped his heart. "You sure about that?"

"I spent most of my career in the FBI studying this monster, trying to bring him to justice. Yes, I'm sure. This isn't the most pleasant of topics for me so I would prefer to only have to tell it once."

"Yeah, of course." Chris paused a second, allowing Ezra to precede him to the door. "You do know we'll stand by you no matter what happens, Ezra?"

"I know, Chris," Ezra nodded, then turned and stepped into the hallway. His voice was low so Chris didn't hear his next words. "I know and it gives him that much more power over me."

Stepping into the appropriated lounge, Ezra wanted to take a step back when all eyes swung to look at him. Only Chris's presence at his back kept him from bolting. He was guided to one of the plush armchairs where Vin pushed him down into it and Josiah handed him a cup of coffee. After a moment of allowing the six men he'd come to consider friends to hover, he said, "I'm fine, gentlemen. Y'all can stop hovering now."

Sheepishly they all took a seat on various chairs and couches that had been pulled into a rough circle. Vin perched on the right arm of Ezra's chair, folding his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows when Ezra slanted a glance up at him.

"So how do you know who trashed your room and why is he after you?" Jim asked once everyone was settled.

"Straight to the point, Mr. Ellison."

"Standish," Jim growled.

"Right. Jim." Ezra amended. He pulled a photo in a plastic bag out of his inner jacket pocket and placed it on the table. Josiah picked it up and handed it to JD next to him. He'd seen the photo earlier but was still uncertain as to it's significance.

"Hey! This is you, Ezra," JD said, then frowned. "Well, a younger you anyway."

"Yes, Mr. Dunne. That photo was taken the day I graduated from Quantico."

The photo continued on it's way around the room until it reached Carlos. He finally voiced the question most of them wouldn't. "Is this the guy who's after you?"

Ezra snorted. "Hardly. The young man in the photo with me was murdered about a year after that was taken."

"Oh. So who is he?"

"Pardon my rudeness, but who are you and why are you here?" Ezra demanded. It was hard enough talking about this with people he knew, let alone people he didn't.

"Sorry. Forgot you weren't here for introductions. I'm Carlos Sandoval. Formerly with the Dallas PD, now I'm a PI with Trent here. We're in Cascade because of a threat made against Trent, Detective Ellison, and Agent Tanner."

"I'm Trent Malloy. Former Lieutenant in the Army Rangers. Now I'm a PI and martial arts instructor." Trent nodded his head in greeting to Ezra.

Ezra frowned, "Your Sensei Malloy, Mr. Tanner?"

"Yep. He's the one what taught me all those fancy moves I use to kick your butt with."

"Last time I checked we were still even on that score." Ezra looked up at the Texan who just grinned.

"You know martial arts, Agent Standish?" Trent asked. Vin had been one of his best pupils in the Rangers. The Southerner just shrugged.

"Ez here is a black belt in Tae Kwon Do," Vin answered for him, easily blocking the shove that was meant to knock him off the chair.

"If we could get back to the case at hand, gentlemen?" Simon interrupted. He gestured to the dark-skinned man standing next to him, "This is Captain Joel Taggert. He's part of my Major Crimes Unit."

"Ah, Capt. Taggert. How was your daughter's recital?"

"Fine, thank you. How did..."

"Sandburg," Jim supplied, then; "Quit stalling, Standish. How do you know who is after you from that picture and why?"

Team 7 bristled at Jim's blunt questioning. Ezra hastened to reassure them. "It's all right, gentlemen. I am stalling. My past is not exactly something I have ever been eager to discuss and this particular bit is painful. To understand this monster I need to give you a little background information."

Ezra set aside the coffee mug and leaned back in his chair. Everyone watching was amazed and a little shocked by how easily he wiped all traces of emotion from his face. "To start with, the young man in the photo with me was Devaney Goldman. A cheerful fellow, half-Irish, half-German Jewish. He was my roommate and best friend at Quantico. We'd both been recruited straight from College. He'd graduated from NYU and I from Browns. When we graduated at the head of our class he was my first partner. We managed to prove ourselves quite adept at working back-up on several cases, in a couple of instances finding the crucial clues to solve the case. We were given lead on a case with two older agents as back-up. Our superiors believed it would be an open and shut case. Follow the clues, nail the bad guy. They were calling him the Valentine Stalker."

"Valentine Stalker? So he was stalking people around Valentine's Day?" Buck asked.

"Not precisely. He was called that because he would send the person he was stalking a Valentine card with a poem inside. We then had six hours to find his latest victim before they were killed."

"I don't understand," JD interrupted. "If the victim got the card six hours before they were to be killed why weren't they just put into protective custody?"

"Because they weren't going to the person to be killed. They were going to whomever the Stalker had fixated on," Trent answered.

"And the people who were killed were somehow close to or possibly related to the fixation," Blair put in, figuring out the second piece of the puzzle.

"You are both correct. The Stalker wasn't satisfied with the usual games. He needed to have ultimate control over his victims."

"Why'd he use Valentine's Day cards?" Nathan asked. "They're not exactly easy to come by unless it's just before Valentine's Day."

"True, which is part of why the media was so eager to pick up on it, that and his first two fixations were people of a certain amount of fame. The first fixation was a woman from one of the more affluential families in Atlanta. Sybil Deveraux. She'd married into another moneyed family. Her husband was a well-known and respected surgeon. Everyone also knew that the two of them hated each other. Lived in separate wings of the mansion; lived separate lives, and made no pretense at hiding their infidelities."

"Infi-whats?"

"Affairs. The Stalker killed the eldest of her two sons, her only brother, and her current lover before kidnapping her. She was violated and then her throat and wrists were slit so that she bled to death painfully."

"Were they able to get any kind of samples from the rape? Anything to help identify this sicko?" Carlos asked.

"I didn't say she was raped. I said she was violated. There's a difference."

"What kind of difference?" JD asked, but before anyone could tell him he made the connection and paled. "Oh. That's...that's really gross."

"Who was the second fixation?" Josiah asked.

"A local congressman, John Patrick Harrington, up and coming," Ezra answered. "He'd just put in his bid for State Senate. The Stalker was particularly brutal with him. It was his second family. His first wife was quite insane, had been in a mental hospital for years with little expectations of recovery. He'd divorced her but continued to pay for her care. The only other family she had was their daughter. The Stalker took the two children from the second marriage first, shot and killed the nanny in the process. They were found in a rental car on a deserted road. They'd been given poisoned candy. Thankfully it was a painless death. We tried to track him through the rental agency but the whole thing had been conducted over the phone. The next victim was the second wife. She had become distraught at the deaths of their children and had to be hospitalized. There were two guards at her door, but for a period of five minutes one was in the bathroom and the other was called away to help deal with a disorderly patient just down the hall. When the guards returned an empty syringe was found in her arm. Air had been injected directly into her bloodstream.

"The next day we found Harrington dead. He'd shot himself. There was a letter explaining he couldn't go on anymore with the loss of his wife and children, and his career in shambles now."

"What about the daughter? From the first marriage?" Blair asked. "Was she ever a target?"

Ezra shook his head. "No. Not that we'd been able to tell. She was in Europe the entire time, backpacking across the Continent. I never met her until her father's funeral. We'd briefly considered her a suspect but she was a small woman and had an alibi for all the murders. We never caught him. Never even got a description or an identity."

Everyone was silent; digesting the information Ezra had given them. He sat there turning the cup in his hands, looking down at the floor. Vin broke the silence.

"You said the first two. Who was the third and how does it connect to your friend?"

Ezra carefully put the cup on the closest table before rising to his feet and crossing to the window. He stared straight ahead for a moment, not really seeing anything, then turned back to the room. His voice trembled slightly when he spoke. "There was a third person the Stalker fixated on. Me. Devaney was murdered to get to me, as well as a young woman I was currently seeing. Luckily, I suppose, Maude and I were not speaking at the time. She was off in Europe somewhere with husband number 4, calling herself Magdelena. As my associates are aware I find it very difficult to make friends, to allow people close to me. I don't know if the Stalker thought it would be a challenge or he just felt like mind-fucking one of the agents in charge of trying to capture him. Eleanor was killed first, then Devaney. The Stalker...what he...their deaths were quite brutal."

Ezra turned away from them, unable to say any more as his breath hitched in his throat. Vin was by his side in an instant, a comforting hand on his shoulder. The rest of Team 7 were also on their feet but gave the two men some space. They all knew how good Ezra was at hiding his emotions. For him to be this shaken, whatever had happened had been bad.

"I hate to have to ask this, but what happened to them? How were they killed?" Simon asked, trying to be as gentle about it as possible.

Ezra still flinched. He couldn't talk about it. Even now the memories threatened to consume him, to destroy him. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to run before this monster killed his friends one by one. Vin's hand tightened on his shoulder at the same as he heard a low growl. Startled he looked to Vin who was glaring at Simon.

Understanding what was happening, Blair quickly intervened. "The case file would have all that information wouldn't, Simon? Everyone's tired so now probably wouldn't be the best time to try and go over it anyway."

Jim nodded at Simon, letting him know he agreed with Blair. Questioning Standish on something obviously so painful could wait until morning. When he got Jim's answering nod, he said, "You okay, Standish?"

"I have been better," Ezra answered honestly.

Jim grunted in reply. "Everyone take a seat again." He ignored the way Larabee bristled at him taking charge. "I think it's time Trent tells Vin why it is he's here in Cascade."

"Captain?" Trent looked up at him wide-eyed. He'd been hoping Jim would be the one to tell Vin.

"Yeah. Why are ya here, Sensei?" Vin asked as he guided Ezra back to the chair he'd been sitting in.

Trent nervously licked his lips waiting for Vin to sit down before he spoke. "Uhm, my younger brother, Tommy, was, uh, kidnapped after-school today."

That got everyone's attention. Vin frowned. "I'm real sorry to hear that, Sensei, but what does that have to do with me?"

"I'm getting to that. Around six a van pulled up in front of my mom's house and dumped Tommy out before speeding away. He was pretty badly beaten, but the doctors say he's going to be fine. The ones who took him weren't trying to hurt him badly. They were sending a message."

"What kind of message?" Chris asked, getting the sinking feeling he was not going to like what was coming.

Reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, Trent pulled out the two newspaper articles in their plastic bags. He handed them to Vin. "That he was coming for us. He escaped two days ago."

Vin stared down at the clippings Trent was holding out to him. A trembling hand came up as if to take them, but then Vin snatched it away, shaking his head violently. "No. No! It ain't him. It ain't. He's in prison. It ain't him!"

"Vin," Trent said gently, glancing to Jim. "I had a friend in the Texas Rangers check..."

"No. The bastard's in prison. I checked! First of every month I check! He's in prison!" Vin had risen to his feet, his whole body trembling as he tried to deny what Trent was trying to tell him. Everyone else was on their feet as well, uncertain of what to do.

"My friend checked, Vin. He escaped two days ago. I'm sorry."

"No," Vin whispered harshly, starting to back-up. No one liked the wild, lost look in his eyes. Chris approached him slowly, Ezra a step behind.

"It's alright, Vin. We won't let this guy get near you." Chris spoke softly, loosely grasping Vin's arm in case he tried bolting.

"I promise you, Mr. Tanner. This vile miscreant will not be allowed to harm you," Ezra said fiercely, taking Vin's other arm.

"Ya promise, Ez?" Vin asked, his voice so low they had to strain to hear it.

"By everything I hold dear, Mr. Tanner. I swear."

"Same goes for me, cowboy."

"Me too."

"Damn straight."

"We won't let him near you, Vin."

"You have our word, Brother."

"And ours, Runt," Jim added, getting their attention. "I won't let Moran hurt you again."

"Would somebody please tell me what's going on now? Who is this Moran person and why would he want to hurt Tanner?" Simon demanded gesturing with his unlit cigar.

Jim sighed. "Moran is a nutcase from our days in the Rangers."

"Tell me something new," Simon muttered sarcastically.

"All right, try this. Drill Sergeant Andrew Moran along with three of his flunkies take six new Ranger recruits on a standard six day training mission. A sort of capture the flag. Only the second they set foot on the training grounds Moran decides to change the exercise objective. He decides they need some POW training. He took six green recruits who hadn't had the proper psych evaluations and tortured them for two and a half days before a squad rescued them. Three days. Tanner was the only one to remain on active combat duty. One of the only two not to take a medical discharge. One of the four who left the Army blew his brains out six months later. Moran is supposed to be serving six consecutive life sentences with no chance for parole. How's that for something new?" Jim growled.

"Oh," Simon said stunned.

"Yeah. Oh," Jim muttered. Rubbing a tired hand over his face, Jim looked around at the others who were now all staring at him. "Look. It's late and we're all too tired to deal with this right now. I suggest we all get some sleep and meet up again in the morning. From now on anyone who is a possible target for Moran or Standish's Stalker should not be alone at any time. Moran's targets will be me, Vin and Trent. Besides you, who else will this Stalker target, Standish?"

"Anyone on our team. He will go after my friends first, long before he comes for me," Ezra said tiredly.

"All right. No one goes anywhere alone." Jim looked to Chris to see if he agreed. "You have any comments or suggestions, Larabee, or does that sound good? You know your men best."

"Works fine for me. Boys, you know the usual pairings. It'll be Ezra, Vin, and me. Sleeping arrangements stay the same, except Ezra and Vin will bunk in with me. I've got an extra bed. Josiah, I want you on the phone first thing in the morning with the FBI in Atlanta. I want everything they have on this Valentine Stalker. Ellison, can you get the file on this Sergeant Moran?"

"I've still got some contacts. I'll have it some time tomorrow."

"Good. Let's go to bed, boys. We'll meet in the lobby at 7?" Chris glared at Ezra when he made a face.

"Look at it this way, Ez," JD said smiling, "7 AM here is 9 AM home."

"That is most reassuring, Mr. Dunne," Ezra said starting to roll his eyes, but stopped himself.

"7 it is, gentlemen," Simon said, heading for the door. "I'll probably bring Connors in on this. She has a penchant for psychopaths."

Blair snickered, then muttered when Jim propelled him towards the door with a hand between his shoulders. "Night, guys."

Good-byes were quickly said as the men dispersed. Chris, Vin, and Ezra followed by Nathan headed towards Chris's room. Despite their protests, Nathan checked them both over. Satisfied, he pulled a small packet with two pills in it out of his pocket.

"If either one of you can't sleep I want you to take one of these. It'll put you out for a good eight hours."

"Nathan..."

"Mr. Jackson..."

"Shut up you two," Chris snapped with a glare. "I'll make sure they take it if necessary, Nathan."

"Good. I'll see you all in the morning."

Once Nathan was gone Chris glanced at the two men sitting side by side on the edge of the bed looking like two little boys. "You ladies need a personal invitation or are you planning on getting ready for bed any time soon?"

Vin scowled at him before getting up and going to his duffel bag. It had been put in Chris's room when it was determined it hadn't been touched. Ezra watched him move then turned back to Chris, his face as unreadable as ever.

"All of my clothes have been put into evidence."

Chris sighed, stalked over to his own bag and pulled out a pair of sweatpants. He tossed them to Ezra. "Here. These should be a little big on you."

"Black. Why am I not surprised?" Ezra caught Chris's glare. "Thank you for their loan, Mr. Larabee."

A grunt was the only response he got as the man set about getting ready for bed. Ten minutes later Ezra and Vin were sharing the one bed while Chris took the other and turned off the night table lamp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of torture, assault, murder, and suicide.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible triggers, see end notes.

**Tuesday Morning**

The next morning Chris woke before either Ezra or Vin. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he watched them sleep, amazed once more how they looked like two little boys curled up next to each other. None of them had gotten much sleep as both Vin and Ezra had suffered from nightmares. Most of the time he hadn't had a chance to do more than toss back his covers before they'd calmed the other down and gone back to sleep. He really didn't want to wake them, but he had to if they were going to meet up with the others. With a sigh he scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Mornin', cowboy."

Chris looked up to find a pair of tired blue eyes watching him. "Morning, Vin. How's he doing?"

Vin shrugged carefully, glancing down at the Southerner curled up against him, head buried against his chest. "Been better. Didn't get much sleep last night."

"I know. I hate to wake him but we need to get going if we're going to meet up with everyone."

"It's alright, Mr. Larabee. Sleeping in does not hold it's usual appeal this morning," Ezra said, rolling over to face him. "As it is I would like to make a quick visit to the men's clothing store on the first floor. I refuse to wear the same suit the entire convention."

"Sure," Chris nodded. "I'll give the others a call and let them know."

"Thank you."

"I'm gonna use the head then call them while you two take your showers."

Vin sat up as Chris disappeared into the bathroom. Ezra was still lying on his side facing away from Vin. "You gonna be alright, Ezra?"

Ezra let out a long sigh. "I wish that I could say yes, Mr. Tanner, but I would be lying. This man is a monster. Pure and simple. He walks the earth because not even Hell would take him in."

Vin felt a chill run down his spine. It came too close to his own feelings about Moran. "I know what you mean. This guy Moran, he...I've been through a lot of bad shit in my life, but he made it all seem like a cakewalk compared to what he did to me. After...after they rescued us I didn't talk for close to a year. Not unless I absolutely had to. See, he either wanted us to tell him anything he wanted to know or he wanted to hear us scream. I wouldn't. I wouldn't scream. I wouldn't talk. Nothing. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Once we were rescued I could still hear his voice, still feel him trying to break me, until I finally got up the courage to face him. Took a weekend leave and visited Leavenworth. Seein' him face to face again, only he was the one trapped now, it finally seemed to break the hold he had on me. Least I thought it had anyway."

Ezra remained silent and after a moment Vin got out of the bed to get ready for his shower. Chris came out of the bathroom and immediately felt the tension in the room. He looked from Vin who was focused on his duffel bag to Ezra still lying on his side as if asleep.

"Everything okay?"

Vin glanced at Ezra, shrugged, then shouldered his way past Chris to the bathroom and closed the door. Chris moved around the bed so he could see Ezra's face.

"What did you say to him?"

"I said nothing." Ezra swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

"Then why is Vin upset?"

"How should I know?"

"Dammit, Ezra. We're all in this together. We'll face these bastards as a team."

"And in the end I'll be alone once more," Ezra said, shaking his head sadly.

"Do you really have so little faith in us?" Chris demanded harshly.

"No," Ezra half-shouted, rising to his feet. "I am *that* afraid of him." Ezra sank back down on the bed, once more looking at the floor. "You just don't understand, Chris."

"I do."

Ezra turned at the sound of Vin's voice behind him. He shook his head. "I don't think you do, Vin."

"You think I don't understand about having nightmares because of what some sick bastard got it in his head to do to you? You think I don't understand the fear, the terror of not knowing what he's going to do next?" Vin moved around the bed so he could kneel down in front of Ezra. "Do you really think it's any easier for me knowing Moran is out there, waiting to strike? It scares the hell out of me. So don't tell me I don't know what you're going through. I know."

"But you don't, Vin. You know who your attacker is. You can put a face, a real name, to your monster. And you can say you have faced him and you have won. You can draw on that knowledge, take strength from it when you face him again. I cannot. I have no idea who my monster is. Tall, short, fat, skinny, young, old, white, black, Asian. I. Don't. Know. Just the fear of one day opening my mail to find a Valentine card from him and knowing that even with 6 hours I won't find my friend alive again. What he did to Devaney and Eleanor," Ezra shook his head, unable to say more. Vin pulled him into a tight hug.

"You ain't gonna lose us to this bastard, Ezra. You ain't gonna face him alone. I'm giving you my word as a Tanner. No one messes with our family. Don't you know that yet?"

"I believe I am beginning to, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said as he pulled away. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I am going to shower now and get ready to go." Moving to the doorway of the bathroom, he stopped and turned back to Vin. "You aren't going to face your monster alone either, Vin. As a wise person told me, no one messes with our family."

Vin smiled, letting it fade when the door closed behind Ezra. "We have to nail this bastard, Chris."

"We will, Vin. We will. We'll nail both of them." Chris placed a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder. Vin just nodded his head. "I'm going to call Buck and let him know we're heading down early." Chris sighed, sitting down on his bed as he picked up the room phone. Vin had gone back to his duffel bag and was rummaging through it.

"Hey, Buck. We're going to head downstairs early so that Ezra can pick up some new clothes. We'll meet you all in the dining room."

"Sure, Chris. Uh, pard, keep an eye on Ezra, okay?"

Chris frowned. "Already planned on it. Something wrong?"

Vin looked up from what he was doing at Chris's tone, his gaze flicking quickly to the closed bathroom door.

"Not exactly. JD couldn't sleep last night so he did some snooping."

"He accessed the Stalker file." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Chris knew JD's curiosity and his hacking skills. Vin was on his feet, completely alert.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"Chris, pard, this guy...he...well, to use JD's words, this guy makes Hannibal Lechter look like the Easter bunny. This guy is just sick and twisted. Hell, I'm nauseous just thinking about it. Chris, we've seen stuff, you and I, but this, this is worse."

"Damn," Chris muttered, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Look, see if you can't get us a conference room and have breakfast served in there. This way we won't have to worry about being overheard."

"I'll take care of it. You watch the young'ins."

Chris hung up the phone the same time as Buck.

"Chris?" Vin asked when Chris continued to remain silent.

"JD got ahold of the Stalker file. It...it ain't pretty, Vin. Buck's seen some pretty bad shit from when we were in the SEALs and then in the Denver PD. This is worse."

"And now he's back."

"Yeah."

"I gave Ezra my word. I won't let this guy hurt him."

"None of us will. Just as we won't let Moran hurt you. Now let's get ready to go. I've got a feeling this is going to be a long day."

Vin nodded, not wanting to admit that he had a bad feeling Chris was going to be right.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

By the time Chris, Ezra, and Vin arrived at the conference room everyone else was already there and eating. Only JD and Buck were just sipping at their coffee, much to Nathan and Josiah's concern.

"Morning, everyone," Chris said as he opened the door to the room. Ezra and Vin filed in after him, nodding their greetings.

"Morning, brothers. How are you, boys?" Josiah asked, watching the two younger men take their seats. Neither of them looked as if they'd had a restful night.

"I'm fine," they chorused, glancing at each other when the rest of the team groaned.

"Why don't we get this show on the road, shall we?" Simon suggested. "To start off with there was no sign of forced entry on Standish's room. We ran every fingerprint we lifted. Two matched Standish and Tanner, one matched one of the cleaning staff. A woman named Maria Delgado, who is Mexican and is 59 years old. Barely speaks English. Somehow I doubt she's our Stalker." Simon tapped his unlit cigar on the papers in front of him for emphasis. "There were two other partial prints that came up with no matches. Considering this is a hotel it's a good chance they belong to prior occupants. The ammonia smell doesn't do us much good since it is a common cleaning agent. Pheromones aren't exactly something that can be traced so that doesn't do us any good either. What is it, Sandoval?"

Carlos lowered his hand as he looked from Simon to Jim and then back to Simon. "Uh, could someone explain to me just how it is Det. Ellison can smell pheromones, much less identify them? I mean, you've gotta have a sense of smell like a dog or something to pick up on that. Don't tell me no one else found it a little weird?"

"Carlos," Trent hissed, trying to quiet him.

"What?" he asked. No one would quite meet his eyes. Finally Simon spoke up.

"It's up to you, Jim."

"So much for no one knowing. Look, long story short. I have what are called enhanced senses. Taste, touch, smell, hearing, and vision are all way above normal. Blair is my Guide, he helps me keep my senses from going beserk."

"Um, okay. What's a guide and can anyone be one?" Carlos asked.

"Every Sentinel, that's what the ancient tribes called them, every Sentinel has a Guide, someone who helps them to focus and control their senses and should a zone out happen, guide them back. As for can anyone be one, well, I'm not really sure," Blair said with a shake of his head. "Jim has been the only living full-blown Sentinel that I've ever come across. When we met he was having bad sensory spikes because his senses had just come back on-line. No one seemed to be able to help him, but I suspect part of that was because no one understood what was happening to him. The Chopec, a tribe in South America that Jim and I have spent some time with, believe that a Sentinel only has one true Guide. Sometimes when necessary another can take the true Guide's place but only temporarily. The temporary Guide does not have the same bond with the Sentinel as the true Guide would or does."

"So that's the deal," Jim interrupted before Blair could launch into a full-blown lecture. He knew his Guide and friend too well. "We'd like for you not to say anything about this to anyone. We've gone through a lot of trouble to make people believe that I don't have enhanced senses."

"I'm cool with that. I just like to know what's going on."

"Right. Were you able to get the file on the Valentine Stalker?" Simon asked looking to Chris.

Chris glanced over at Buck and JD. JD wouldn't look up from his coffee so Buck nodded. "Yeah, we got it."

"Well?"

"I'd like to hear what we have on Moran first," Chris said. "None of you want to be eating when we talk about the Stalker."

Everyone paled a little at that statement, understanding now why Chris, Vin, Ezra, Buck and JD weren't eating. Jim cleared his throat.

"My friend got me the file, but there isn't much in it. Sargent Andrew Moran, born in Kansas City, Missouri. Signed up when he was 18. Received a few commendations during the Gulf War, but otherwise a pretty routine career. About a year before that training mission he was cited for passing out pamphlets on, get this, the Sunrise Patriots."

"Oh man. Please tell me you're joking?" Blair groaned. Simon, Joel and Megan were also shaking their heads, worried expressions on their faces.

"This bloke is like a bad penny that just won't go away," Megan muttered.

"Who are you talking about? And what are the Sunrise Patriots?" Chris asked.

"A militia group that wants to 'take back' the US from the corrupt politicians and evil foreign influences," Josiah answered. "Didn't they take over one of your stadiums or something?"

"The Cascade Sports Arena, but a couple of years before that they managed to take the PD building hostage. Joel, Blair, and my son were among those held hostage," Simon answered with a sigh. "The Patriots are led by a man named Garrett Kincaid, who is currently locked up in Cascade's Maximum Security prison. A Man who has something of a grudge against Jim and Blair."

"If Moran has access to Kincaid's resources and his men, then there's no telling what he's capable of doing." Jim added.

"Great. Just great," Chris muttered. "No ideas whatsoever on how he might strike or where?"

"Well, if he's anything like Kincaid," Blair said, "it will probably be something big. Something that won't go unnoticed by the media."

"True. Kincaid always made sure the media was aware of what he was doing," Joel added.

"We should probably let the hotel manager and the people running the convention know," Nathan said. "If they like big then the hotel could be a target."

"I'll talk to them once we're done here," Simon said. He glanced around the table deciding it was time to move on to the hard part. "Alright, so we know Moran is a certified wacko backed by another certified wacko. What do we know about this Stalker?"

Silence fell over the room as no one seemed willing to talk. Ezra was the one to break the silence clearing his throat.

"The Stalker is highly intelligent, vicious and completely amoral. He viewed the whole thing as a game, but that is not to say that each victim's death wasn't carefully planned and executed. He was very, very deliberate in choosing his victims and how they died. Most of the deaths were violent and very painful. With two exceptions, all of his victims suffered. Actually most of them died from cardiac arrest due to the intense amount of pain they were in. A couple from sheer blood loss. The two exceptions were the Congressman's children. They were given a sedative in their candy and then carbon monoxide poisoning killed them." Ezra paused for a moment, the memory too clear in his mind of the children's lifeless bodies. "There was a note left in the car with the children. 'The innocent shall suffer the sins of the guilty. The children bear the shame of the father.' There...there was also a message left with the body of Mrs. Deveraux. One of the ten commandments written in her blood on the wall of the motel room where she was found. Thou shalt not covet they neighbor's wife."

He paused again, taking a sip of water. His pale features and shaking hand told everyone how difficult it was for him to speak of these events. "The children were...were taken two weeks after the death of Mrs. Deveraux. Mrs. Harrington was hospitalized two days later for a nervous breakdown. At the same time Congressman Harrington received another Valentine. The message led us to believe that the next victim would be his first wife."

"The one in the psychiatric hospital?" Trent asked.

"Yes. So, while two officers were left to guard the current Mrs. Harrington, we focused our attention on the first wife. There was a mix-up but we soon determined that she was still securely ensconced at the care facility, and returned post haste to the hospital. We were too late though. Mrs. Harrington was already dead. A fast acting poison had been injected directly into her veins. As it was, her attending physician later informed us that there were traces of an experimental neural toxin in her system. It had facilitated her breakdown and would have killed her in another 24 hours. She was dead either way."

"Was there another note?" Josiah asked.

"I...yes, I don't remember exactly. I believe it was part of a nursery rhyme."

"Rock-a-bye baby on the tree top. When the wind blows the cradle will rock. When the bow breaks the cradle will fall. And down will come the false family, cradle and all." JD read from the open file in front of him. "That's when you suspected the daughter from the previous marriage?"

"Quite correct, Mr. Dunne. She had been on the list of suspects briefly before, but a credit card check confirmed she was indeed in Europe so she was taken off the list. The night of his second wife's murder Congressman Harrington was found dead in his study. An apparent suicide. A note explained that with the deaths of his second family, his career in ruins he had nothing left to live for. We did some investigating after that, but it was finally ruled a suicide. The Stalker had succeeded in destroying him. I met his daughter at the funeral. She'd managed to return from Europe in time. Calla Lily Harrington was a petite woman, hardly capable of carrying out the actions of the murders. When we questioned her using a lie detector she passed with flying colors. She was truly heartbroken over the deaths of her father and his second family. Which left us back at square one. And when there were no new Valentines in 3 months the case was declared dead and we were reassigned.

"And a week later you got the Valentine about Eleanor," JD said when Ezra stopped.

"Yes," he answered simply.

"Who was Eleanor?" Megan asked.

Ezra took another sip of water, swallowed and carefully placed the glass on the table. They all knew he was stalling and this time they let him. Finally he said, "Eleanor was to be my Mrs. Standish. I proposed to her the day after the Stalker case was deemed dead. She was packing her things to move in with me the day she was taken. She...she was taken to my...to my own...to my own apartment. I can't. I can't do this." Ezra was on his feet in an instant and headed for the door. Vin was by his side before anyone else could do more than stand.

"Ezra," Vin said, catching his arm.

"I can't, Vin. I can't sit here and calmly discuss what that -- that Hellspawn did to the only two I'd ever called family as if it were any other case. It's not. This isn't like anything we've ever dealt with before. None of you understand what the Stalker is capable of. You have to let me go, Vin. I have to leave."

"So that's it? You're going to run out on us again, Standish?" Chris demanded. Everyone winced at the accusation.

Ezra spun to face him. "You just don't get it. I'm trying to protect all of you. I'm trying to keep you safe from this demon."

"Where are you going to run to, Ezra? Where are you going to hide? Are you going to cut yourself off from civilization completely? 'Cause I don't see how you have any other options. Do you?"

"Don't you understand I'm trying to protect you? All of you? How am I supposed to bear the knowledge that simply being my friend got one or more you killed? I can't. Not again."

"Yes, you can, Ezra, because nothing is going to happen to any of us. We're going to deal with this together whether you like it or not. And you know what, Ezra?"

"What, Mr. Larabee?"

"It wouldn't be any easier for us to live with ourselves if we let you run with this guy still out there. It works both ways. Let us protect each other."

Ezra stared at him for a long moment before nodding his head in agreement. He smiled tightly at Vin, who squeezed his arm reassuringly and guided him back to the table.

"Buck, why don't you tell us the rest of what that file says?"

JD had it open to the appropriate page and slid it over. Buck swallowed hard, pulling the file towards him.

"She, uh, was found in Ezra's apartment tied to the bed. Her body was pretty badly mutilated, particularly her chest and abdomen. The, uh, words, um, whore and slut were carved into her skin on her forehead, arms, and legs. She had...she was also, uh, violated like Mrs. Deveraux. Cause of death was blood loss."

"Blood loss? You mean...?" Carlos asked, horrified.

"She suffered the entire time," Ezra said quietly.

Blair looked down at the food in front of him and pushed it away feeling nauseous. He noticed he wasn't the only one unable to finish eating.

"What happened to your partner?" Jim asked.

"He...he was taken two weeks later. After Eleanor's...after that I couldn't stay at my apartment. I was staying with Devaney at his place. One night he'd gone out to get some thing for dinner. He was gone an hour when an envelope was pushed beneath the door."

"The body was found in a clearing in some woods outside of Atlanta. Once again the body was mutilated, the cuts made to inflict large amounts of pain without killing. Damn," Buck muttered as he read further on in the file.

"What is it, Brother?"

"The Stalker...he, uh...he cut off his...he cut off his...his...Ezra's friend weren't a man no more," Buck finally managed to get out.

Legs were instinctively crossed around the table as this new bit of information was revealed.

"This is one sick bastard. How does someone do something like that?" Carlos asked.

No one answered since no one really had an answer for him.

"What happened next?" Chris asked Buck.

"Nothing," Ezra answered. "Absolutely nothing happened."

Chris looked to Buck who nodded. "He's right. Nothing else happened. There's some forensics reports but there were no other Valentines, nothing. It's like the guy just disappeared."

"For all intents and purposes he did and I've lived in fear of this day," Ezra said quietly.

"You still have no idea who the Stalker might be?" Trent asked. "Nothing in the Valentines you got gave you a clue?"

"No. The profilers came up with very little. Highly intelligent, probably abused as a child, or his parents went through a messy divorce involving infidelities on his father's part. Strong, possibly some military training."

"Forensics didn't find anything? What about the clearing where they found your friend?" Simon asked.

"Nothing of any real use," Buck answered. "The clearing had been used as a campgrounds the night before by a boy scout troop so there were so many footprints nothing could be gotten from that. He was bound with rope but it's available in any hardware store and the Troopmaster admitted to having used the same type of rope the night before. They had the same problem with all the other murder scenes. Either it was used just recently by a large number of people or it was some place like the victim's own home. There just wasn't any real evidence left behind. There were no patterns other than the viciousness of the murders."

"So that leaves us with nothing on this guy?" Trent looked around at the others.

"For the moment," Josiah said. "Pass that file over here, Buck. I'm going to look it over, and, Blair, I'd like your input too."

"Sure, Tree. We'll get together right after lunch?"

Josiah nodded in agreement. Chris checked his watch.

"Alright, Captain... Banks, you should be able to get a list of all the guests in the hotel and all employees. Have your people go over them, background checks, the works. Everyone needs to keep an eye out for anything that looks out of place, any strange conversations." Chris looked at each of them in turn. "Anything else?"

"Actually, yes," Jim said. "It's not related to Moran or the Stalker, at least not directly anyway."

"What is it?"

Jim looked at Vin. "Blair and I suspect that you're a Sentinel, Vin."

"What?" Vin squeaked as everyone started talking at once.

"Oh, Lord," Ezra muttered.

"Are you sure?" Chris and Simon demanded at the same time.

"Whoo-ee, that's a new one," came from Buck.

"Quiet!" Jim thundered, getting everyone's attention. "Look, no, I'm not absolutely sure. I am sure enough however that I strongly recommend Vin let Blair put him through some tests to check, and see if we can't identify his Guide. And, no, this can't really wait. If Vin is a Sentinel and something causes his senses to come fully online at the wrong time, then either a sensory spike or a zone out will leave him completely vulnerable. By finding his Guide at the same time, it will reduce the chances of him spiking."

"So this means what? You want to take Vin aside to do this testing? For how long?" Chris asked.

"Actually we need both Vin and you, and it'd be for the whole morning," Blair said.

"And we can't do the testing here in the hotel," Jim added, leaning back in his chair to watch Chris's reaction.

"What? We've got two psychopaths looking to kill at least two of my men and you want Vin and I to leave the hotel, and leave Ezra by himself?"

"I am not some wayward child incapable of taking care of myself, Mr. Larabee, and how many times do I have to tell you I am in the least danger of the seven of us?" Ezra glared right back at him.

"You can't in all honesty say that for sure. Are you absolutely sure this guy won't change his MO, or even figure he's just picking up where he left off and come right for you?" Chris pointed out.

"Trent and I aren't technically part of this convention so it's not like we have a seminar schedule to follow. We could go with him to his seminars." Carlos suggested.

"If that's alright with you, Agent Standish?" Trent asked, noting the obstinate look forming on the Southerner's face. It reminded him a little of his own younger brothers.

"Don't argue, Ezra," Vin said quietly. "If Chris and me can't be here to watch your back, I'd feel better knowing Sensei and his friend are."

Ezra sighed, seeming to deflate as he slumped back in his chair, his gaze meeting Vin's for a moment before he nodded. "As you wish, Mr. Tanner."

The rest of Team Seven exchanged glances, knowing how rare it was for Ezra to agree to something so easily. Josiah fingered the file in front of him. He was even more determined now to bring to justice this man who had put such fear into the second of the two men he called son in spirit.

"Alright, boys," Chris looked at each of his men, "you all know what you need to do. Buck, JD, I want you to go to Buck's first seminar, then JD's second one after that. And I don't want to hear about how you're going to miss Agent Danvers, Buck. There are more important things than a pretty woman. Nathan, Josiah, you two can figure out your schedule between you. Enjoy your seminars, Ezra, and try not to give the instructors too hard a time. Where are we headed, Ellison?"

"A park just outside of Cascade. We've done testing there before so there won't be a problem with distractions or prying eyes."

"Let's get going then," Chris said rising to his feet, the rest of the team right behind him.

Simon chomped down on his unlit cigar looking as if he might argue but finally settled for, "Alright. Connors, Joel, get any other evidence you think you need from upstairs and I'll meet you back at the precinct. Jim, call me as soon as you're heading back into Cascade." Simon rose to his feet, prompting the others to as well. Little was said as everyone left the room.

Vin hung back a little so he could catch Trent before he left the room. "Hold up a second, Sensei?"

Trent gestured for Carlos to continue out to catch up with Ezra before giving Vin his full attention. "What is it, Vin?"

Vin shuffled his feet a little self-consciously. "Look after Ezra for me? I mean, I know you're gonna be watchin' his back and all, but really keep an eye on him." Vin sighed as he met Trent's gaze. "Ez is real good at hiding what he's feeling so just keep an eye on him. Okay?"

Trent couldn't help remembering a time when it had been Ellison coming to him about Vin. Same as then, he had no intention of letting his friend down. "I will, Vin. I promise."

"Thanks, Sensei."

"You know, Vin, I think you can call me Trent by now," Trent said with a smile.

"I reckon," Vin said with a smile of his own before heading out to join the others.

Chris, Jim, Blair, Ezra, and Carlos were waiting for them, the others having gone on ahead. Ezra was telling Carlos about his morning seminars while Chris, Jim, and Blair waited silently. Vin nodded to them as he stepped up to Ezra and Carlos.

"Try not ta sass your instructors too much, Ez."

"Why, I resent that heinous accusation, Mr. Tanner," he replied with a grin.

"Uh-huh. Just try and stay outta trouble, pard," Vin said, placing a hand on Ezra's upper arm.

"I will, Vin." Ezra gripped Vin's hand. "You do the same."

"I will. See ya at lunch."

"At lunch. Enjoy your morning. Mr. Malloy. Mr. Sandoval. Shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More mention of torture, assault, mutilation, and murder.


	13. Chapter 13

**-Thirty Minutes Later Outside Cascade**

Jim parked his pick-up truck in a small clearing by a picnic table. Chris parked the rental car next to it. They all got out and gathered around the table.

"Are you sure about this, Captain? I mean if I had enhanced senses, wouldn't I be having those zone out things?"

"I understand how hard this is to believe, Runt. I didn't want to believe it myself when Sandburg first explained it to me. But I was doing some thinking and some remembering last night and I think you might be. Sandburg thinks that since you never had a reason to block them the way I did that maybe you've always had your senses, just not at full force."

"I know it sounds strange, Vin," Blair spoke up as he rummaged through his backpack. "Believe me, man, I had a hell of a time convincing Jim and he was having sensory spikes all over the place. It is possible you just have above-average sight. It's possible you're only a partial Sentinel with 3 or 4 senses. And it's possible you're an undeveloped Sentinel who just needs a trigger or for your Guide to show up. Just hear me out, let me do a couple of tests." He pulled items out of his bag, waving one on occasion to emphasize a point. "If I'm wrong, then fine, you're not a Sentinel and we spent a nice morning in the woods. If I'm right and you are a Sentinel then it's imperative we find out who your Guide is." Blair had his back to Chris and Vin as he finished digging through his bag, lowering his voice until 'who your Guide is' was said in a whisper only a Sentinel could hear.

"Why would it be impera-whatever that I have a Guide? I've gone all my life without one. And I ain't a Sentinel," Vin declared. He frowned when he noticed Jim and Blair grinning at him and Chris giving him an odd look. "What?"

"You heard all that?" Chris asked.

"Of course I did. Didn't you?"

"No. He was whispering half the time."

"Well, I'd say hearing is above normal," Blair smiled, making notes in his book.

**-Cascade Grand Hotel**

"How do the screens look?" asked John Peters, head of hotel security, as he entered the office.

"Everything's just fine," answered the guard sitting behind the monitor console. As Peters walked towards him to take a look, he flipped a switch underneath the console. Three screens, which had previously shown men working on something in different parts of the basement flickered for a second then, showed empty hallways.

Peters came around the console and nodded at the clear screens. "Good. Looks good. I don't expect anything to happen with so many law enforcement agencies running around here, but better safe than sorry. Especially with the break-in at that ATF agent's room last night. Captain Banks seems to think we might be a target for something, but you'd have to be a fool to try and take a hotel full of cops hostage. Make sure Johnson, Michaels, Smith, and Fielding do their rounds. I want this place as secure as can be."

"Don't worry, sir. It is."

"It's my job to worry," Peters said with a nod and left the room. The man flipped the switch and smiled when the men on the screen gave him the okay sign. Everything was falling into place.

**-Outside Cascade**

"Okay, let's try your sense of touch," Blair said, taking out a blindfold.

"What's that for?" Vin asked, leaning away from him.

"This way you can't see the objects."

Vin looked uncertainly from Blair and the blindfold to Chris and Jim.

"It's not too bad, Runt. Just remember to not concentrate too much on any one sense at a time."

Vin sighed and nodded, ducking his head so the shorter man could tie on the blind fold. He blinked a couple of times not liking the closed in feeling he got. A hand wrapped around his wrist and he immediately identified Chris.

"Easy, cowboy. Take deep breaths. I'm right here."

He nodded again, sucking in several ragged breaths. The feeling receded a little. "I'm ready. Let's get this done with so's I can see again."

"Okay," Blair said, taking his other hand and guiding it to the first object. "What's this?"

Rubbing his fingers over the soft object, Vin smiled. "Fur. Synthetic rabbit fur."

"Cool. You can tell it's synthetic?"

"Yeah. Ain't got the same feel as real fur. Ain't as coarse."

"Cool, and this?"

Vin rubbed his fingers over the new object. "It's a kinda paper. That Egyptian stuff?"

"Papyrus? No, similar. Try a smell."

Vin felt it brush against his noise and he took a tentative sniff. "Smells like rice. They make paper outta rice?"

"Yep. In China. Now, can you tell me what's written on it?"

Frowning, Vin moved his fingers over the paper, feeling the texture of it, the nuances of the ink as it dipped and thickened then thinned. Each stroke varying from the one before it. He felt the sloping swirls of each letter, and where the ink bled deep into the rice paper. It was amazing the slight differences he could detect in each stroke.

Vin suddenly found himself blinking up at the sky, rocks digging into his back from lying on the ground. Jim, Blair and Chris hovered over him anxiously. "What in hell happened?" he demanded.

"You zoned, Runt," Jim answered.

"You alright, Vin?" Chris asked, helping him to his feet.

"I zoned? But I was feeling the paper and the letters." Vin frowned at them. "It weren't but a few seconds."

"Afraid not, man." Blair shook his head, his hands shoved in his pockets. "You were out for almost ten minutes. Me and Chris were doing everything we could to get you out of it."

"Ten minutes?" Vin whispered, horrified. "How'd...How?"

"I knocked you over and the blindfold came off at the same time," Jim answered with a shrug. "Having my other senses suddenly hit brings me out of mild zone outs if Blair isn't around."

"Yeah, the sudden stimulation of a sense, hey," Blair stopped mid-sentence to glare at Jim. "You've been having zone outs while I'm not around? Why didn't..."

"It's been over six months since the last time it happened, Chief. It's no big deal."

"No big deal," Blair spluttered. "You and I are gonna have a talk about what's 'no big deal' when we get home, mister," He said angrily, poking Jim in the chest for emphasis.

"Guys," Chris interrupted before Blair could really get into it. "What about Vin? You said as his Guide I would be able to bring him out of one of these things fairly quickly. Why didn't that happen?"

"Well, actually I said *if* you were his Guide you would be able to. I was hoping you were. It looked like you might be, but you gotta realize, man, that I'm guessing here." Blair took a step back when Chris glared at him. "Look, I'm doing the best I can. I told you, I've only known two full-blown Sentinels. Jim and that crazy bitch, Alex Barnes. It's not an exact science and for the most part I'm running blind here. I could only guess that you were his Guide from the way you two interacted. Jim and I meeting was like total coincidence. Vin, I know up until now you didn't know you were a Sentinel but it the past couple of years have you noticed any kind of increase in your senses? Maybe sounds or smells or the feel of something bothering you just a little bit more than they used to? Allergic reactions that seemed to get worse?"

Vin shrugged, trying to think back. "I don't know. I mean, maybe. I had ta change my laundry detergent again, and I gotta wash new clothes 5 or 6 times afore I can wear them, instead a 2 or 3. Maybe things I see or hear have been a little sharper but I ain't never paid much attention."

"How long ago did you first notice this?"

Vin shrugged again. "Coupla years ago. Maybe a few months after I joined the team."

"So, it's gotta be somebody on the team. We just have to figure out who." Blair shrugged. "For now though we should probably keep going with the testing, figure out some of your limits. We just have to be more careful to watch for the beginnings of a zone out."

Chris looked at Vin who was looking very uncomfortable about the whole thing. "It's up to you, Vin."

"I'll be keeping a watch on you, Vin. I'll know as soon as you start to zone," Jim reassured him.

"I guess so, if ya think it's important, Captain?"

"Yeah, I do, Runt."

"Alright. What's next?"

"Cool." Blair pulled a plastic bag with some fruit out of his backpack and a thermos. "This here is a special blend of fruit juice I like to make. I used some of these fruits. I'll let you have a taste of them so you can identify them. This is..."

"Ya got a mango, a kiwi, a papaya, elderberries, an apricot, and a tangerine there."

Blair and Jim looked at him startled while Chris just shook his head with a smile.

"You eat these kinds of fruit?" Blair asked, still surprised that the Texan had been able to correctly identify them.

"Not exactly. Ezra likes mangoes and kiwis. Josiah eats kiwis and papayas. Miss Nettie makes a great elderberry pie. Nate likes apricots. And JD's got a thing for tangerines. I've tried'em all at some point. Mangoes and kiwis are pretty good, though the kiwis gotta be real fresh. Ain't too fond a papayas and apricots. I love Miss Nettie's elderberry pies, and tangerines are okay."

"Uhm, okay. Well, then why don't you take a sip and let me know what's in it?"

Taking the thermos, Vin took a careful sip and winced. "Ehk, went a little heavy on the papaya. Got some kiwi and some tangerine in there too." Vin took a second sip. "Dropped some mango in there too. Probably by accident."

"Mango? No, I didn't put any in there."

"Ya sure? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I'm tastin' a hint a mango in there."

Jim took the thermos and took a swallow. He grimaced too. "He's right, Chief. You put a little too much papaya in there and there is just a flavor of mango."

"Fine," Blair grumbled, taking the thermos away from them. "I like papaya."

"What's next?" Vin asked with a smirk at Blair's grumbling.

**-Cascade Grand Hotel**

"So, gentlemen, did you find that lecture as mentally stimulating as I did?" Ezra asked Trent and Carlos as they exited the conference room. Carlos blushed since they both knew he'd fallen asleep. 

"It was kind of interesting, but the presentation..." Trent shrugged. 

"Lacked a certain 'joi de vive'? Energy?" Ezra suggested with a smile. 

"Yeah," Trent nodded. "Half the time I thought someone should check his pulse to make sure he was still alive." 

"Agent Brooks can be a bit monotonous. The next seminar shouldn't be as bad. Methods of Communication While Undercover, also known as How Not To Blow Your Undercover Agent's Cover. As one of the ATF's more successful agents I've been asked to sit on the panel. It starts in about ten minutes." 

"Great. That's plenty of time," Carlos said with a grin. 

"Plenty of time for what?" Trent asked his partner suspiciously. 

"I noticed a Krispy Kreme across the street and wanted to go get some." 

"I'm afraid there really isn't enough time," Ezra said looking at his watch. "I have to be there early to go over some things with the seminar leader." 

"How about if I meet you guys there? It shouldn't take very long. What room is it in?" 

"Were you paying any attention at all this morning, Carlos?" 

"What?" He looked from Trent to Ezra then back to Trent. "What?" 

"No one's supposed to go anywhere alone. Something about two psychopaths out there?" Trent reminded him. 

"I know, but it's not like I'm a target. Nothing's going to happen in the few minutes it takes me to get a couple of donuts." 

Ezra hmphed in derision, shaking his head as he turned away. "Do as you wish, Mr. Sandoval. I have a seminar to attend in room 215. Mr. Malloy?" 

He didn't wait to see if Trent was following before heading down the hallway. Trent glared at Carlos. "I don't think this is a good idea, Carlos. Moran *hates* me. He's already gone after Tommy. There's a good chance he'll go after you too." 

"You worry too much, hermano. No one is going to kidnap me in broad daylight in front of a hotel filled with cops, FBI and ATF agents. It would be suicide." 

"Carlos." 

"I'll pick you up a glazed jelly donut," Carlos said over his shoulder, turning towards the main lobby. 

"Don't take too long," Trent called after him, then hurried after Ezra. 

Carlos watched Trent jog to catch up to Ezra then headed to the main lobby. He was only going to be gone a few minutes. What could happen in that time? 

* * * * * * * * * 

"Do we really need this doo-hicky thing of yours, JD?" Buck asked as they stepped off the elevator on their floor. 

"Yes, Buck. I need my PDA. The whole point of my seminar is using a PDA for coordinating communications and data. It's pointless to go to the seminar without a PDA," JD said, turning sideways to avoid the cleaning cart in the hallway. 

"Uh-huh. I remember when we didn't have all this high-tech hooey," Buck said, using his key card to unlock the room door. He didn't see JD roll his eyes at him. "We had to rely on good old-fashioned know-how and gut instincts. Nowadays anyone can listen in on anyone." 

JD ignored his friend's grousing since Buck was always one of the first to help him with his high-tech hooey. He headed straight for his suitcase. "It should be in here. I can't believe I forgot it this morning." 

Buck smirked as he flopped down on his bed. "Oh yeah, you always remember everything, like your wallet." 

"Shut up, Buck. I forgot it once." 

Buck just looked at JD. 

"Oh, alright so I've forgotten it a couple of times. I'm not that bad." JD sighed and sat back on his heels, looking around the room. "Where is it?" 

"You sure you brought it with you, kid?" 

"Yes, I'm sure. I remember packing it in my bag between my X-men boxers and my BU t-shirt. I don't remember unpacking it, but maybe I did." JD rose to his feet and headed into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. 

"Tell me you don't use that thing even in the bathroom, kid? Maybe we need to get you into some sorta 12-step program or something." 

"Ha ha, Buck. Very funny," was JD's muffled response. "Can't a guy take a piss in peace?" 

A knock on the door drew Buck's attention. 

"Housekeeping," called a young feminine voice with a slight Spanish accent. Buck was on his feet in a flash. He flung open the door and smiled at the young Hispanic woman standing there, a stack of towels in her hands. 

"Well, hello there, darlin'. Come on in. My friend and I'll be outta your way in a minute." 

"Gracias, Senor," she said as she moved past him into the room. Buck followed her. 

"You need a hand there, darlin'?" 

"Gracias, Senor," she said with a smile, turning around to face him, "but that won't be necessary, Agent Wilmington." 

Buck took a step back in shock when he suddenly found himself facing a silencer. "What the..." 

She fired and Buck's hand immediately flew to his chest and the dart sticking out from it. She smiled as he slumped to the floor. "Night-night, Agent Wilmington." 

Hearing the lock on the bathroom door, she moved quickly into place behind it. 

"I still can't find it, Buck," JD said as he came out of the bathroom. Catching sight of Buck, he stopped in his tracks. "Buck?" 

Before he could do anything else, pain exploded in the back of his head and he slumped to the ground unconscious. With quick movements she disarmed both men, then pulled a set of cuffs from her apron and cuffed JD's hands. She stepped out into the hallway, took a quick look around then backed the cart into the room. A roll of duct tape was produced and she bound JD's legs and gagged him. A bit of maneuvering and she got JD over her shoulder in a fireman's hold. She dumped him into the laundry portion of the cart, shifting some sheets to cover him. 

Using a hand towel, she pulled out a pink envelope marked Ezra Standish and placed it on the floor next to Buck. She started to leave then turned back and removed the dart from Buck's chest. Grinning, she pushed the cart from the room and down the hallway to the freight elevator. 

* * * * * * * * * 

Carlos glanced at his watch again. He was going to be late getting back for Ezra's seminar. Who would have known Krispy Kreme would have such a long line in the middle of the morning? He chuckled at the thought of hordes of cops, FBI, and ATF agents descending on the donut shop from across the street. Another glance at his watch and he debated just leaving. The line moved up and he saw that there were only two more people ahead of him besides the person at the counter. He decided to wait just a little longer. He'd only be a couple of minutes late. 

* * * * * * * * * 

Five vans marked Executive Catering pulled up to the hotel parking garage gate. The lead van rolled down the window as the guard stepped out of the booth. The two men eyed each other for a moment then nodded and the guard waved them through. 

Each van went to a different level of the garage. When they were all in position a cell phone rang in the first van. 

"Alpha here," said the man who picked it up. 

"Everything's in position, sir. We are green." 

"Our targets?" 

"The seminars started five minutes ago." 

"Good. Activate on my mark." He looked at his watch, waiting until the minute turned, then, "Mark." 


	14. Chapter 14

Nathan watched the members of the seminar start to fidget as a full three minutes passed and no instructor arrived. Finally he nudged Josiah sitting next to him, engrossed in the Stalker file.

"What?" He asked absentmindedly.

"The seminar?"

"What? Oh yes," he mumbled as comprehension dawned. Rising to his feet he strode to the front of the room. "Sorry for the delay, everyone. I was reading the file on my latest case."

Josiah waved the file for them to see before placing it on the podium. He picked up the mic and stepped in front of the podium. "Good morning. I'm Josiah Sanchez from Denver ATF Team 7. I'm going to be your tour guide on how to create a successful profile today. Now, I know some of you are expert profilers already, Ryan, Maddie, good to see you again, so if you would hold back a little and let everyone else take a guess first."

The two agents he'd singled out both nodded. Josiah moved to one of the two whiteboards he'd setup. He flipped it over to reveal a diagram with evidence photos and bags with items in them.

"Being a good profiler requires having a good eye for detail, an understanding of how the human mind works, and listening to your gut. Many a case has been solved by a gut instinct or single intuitive leap of faith. Let's start with this case. We have a John Doe found at approximately 11pm on a Saturday by four teens."

Nathan tuned out what Josiah was saying as his thoughts drifted back to what they had learned earlier. What Vin and Ezra had been through respectively explained so many of their behaviors. Especially Ezra. The arrogance he used to keep them all at a distance, the way he'd never let any of them get close to him. Nathan had always assumed Ezra really was just arrogant, and his problems with the FBI made him even less trusting. Now…now everything was different. He felt a little guilty for some of the uncharitable things he’d said to Ezra since meeting him, yet he was also angry because he man had never said anything, had never let them try to help him.

Nathan frowned when the door to the conference room suddenly opened. Hands automatically went for guns as two armed men wearing gas masks entered, followed by a third carrying already open gas grenades. None of them made it more than halfway out of their sets before they were overcome by the fumes.

The three men left the room, leaving the bodies where they lay. A red ribbon was wrapped around the doorknob before they moved on to the next room. Another group would be following quickly behind them to collect weapons from the unconscious agents and officers.

* * * * * * *

**Outside Cascade**

"Okay, guys, this is to test how far you can see. I’m not looking for detail so much as distance. Chris, keep your hand on Vin’s shoulder and talk to him. You may not be his Guide, but there seems to be enough of a connection to keep him from going into a zone out if we’re careful. Just follow the markers and tell me the colors on each of them. I have the distances color-coded, and it’s different for each line. So, whenever you’re ready."

To get things started Jim too a deep breath, focused on the sound of Blair’s heartbeat and the feel of him next to him before starting to read off colors. Vin followed Jims example, taking a deep breath trying to shake off the nervousness in his stomach. He didn't want to experience a zone out again. Once had been enough to put a healthy fear of them in him. It didn't help that they reminded him of ‘spells’ he’d have when he was a kid and would just lose track of time altogether. Keeping an ear tuned to Chris’ voice Vin began to call out colors as well.

Blair eagerly marked down each color as the two Sentinels called them out. He was almost positive now that Vin was a Sentinel. Not as violently suppressed as Jim, but naturally dampened to compensate for the lack of a Guide. He wanted to investigate Vin’s sense of taste further since he’d had no problem with the chili last night, but had been able to identify everything in the juice. His sense of smell was a little off as well. He suspected Vin was holding back now since he’d knowingly experienced his first zone out. Maybe once he figured out who his true Guide was Vin would be more willing to risk it. For the moment Blair was just amazed at how far Vin could see. He’d already had a good idea as to Jim’s range of sight but Vin appeared to be quickly outdistancing Jim.

He wasn’t prepared when both men stopped calling out colors, their heads swiveling to the right in the direction of the vehicles parked out of normal sight.

"There’s trouble at the hotel." Jim said out loud.

"Ezra," was all Vin said. In that moment Jim and Blair knew who Vin’s Guide was.

"What kind of trouble?" Chris asked frowning.

"The hotel’s been taken hostage. Grab your stuff, Chief. Tests are over."

The four men quickly headed back to the vehicles, Blair grabbing his backpack as they went.

* * * * * * *

**Grand Cascade Hotel**

Moran smiled as he and six of his men stepped off the elevator and into the Presidential Suite. The main room was lavishly furnished and he was sure the other rooms were just as rich. Too bad he wasn’t going to be able to enjoy all it had to offer, but he was here for a reason. Revenge, and he would have it.

"Alright, boys. Let’s get things setup. Once Gamma and Delta teams finish running the wires I want them back up here. We have three men to find and not a lot of time."

The six men quickly set about doing as ordered while Moran wandered over to the wet bar. He poured himself a drink and toasted the Cascade skyline. Soon he’d have those three bastards in his grasp and he’d make them pay for what they’d done to him.

* * * * * * *

Stepping out of the Krispy Kreme door, the box of a dozen donuts tucked securely beneath his arm, Carlos looked around as the wail of several police sirens grew louder. He watched with a sinking feeling of dread as half a dozen squad cars screeched to a halt, forming a barricade in front of the hotel. The squad cars were quickly followed by a SWAT van and several unmarked cars.

"Trent?" Carlos whispered, then more loudly cursed. "Dammit! He’s going to kill me."

Hurrying forward, he grabbed the first uniform he saw. A young man, barely out of the Academy from the looks of him. "What’s going on?"

"I’m sorry, sir. Civilians need to clear this area," the young man said officiously. "We have a serious situation here, but rest assured the police will handle it."

"No shit," Carlos growled. "I’m Carlos Sandoval of the Dallas PD. I have a partner and friends in there. Now what the hell is going on?" The kid didn’t need to know he wasn’t still with the PD.

"I’m s-s-sorry, s-sir," the kid stammered. "The hotel has been taken hostage by a group called the Sunrise Patriots."

Carlos cursed hotly in both English and Spanish. "Shit. Moran. Who’s in charge out here?"

"Captain Banks, sir."

"Where is he?"

"Over there, sir. By the SWAT van."

Shouting a, "Thanks," over his shoulder, he headed in the direction of the van searching for the distinctive figure of the tall black captain. He was halfway to him when he was stopped again. This time by a man in a SWAT uniform."I’m sorry, sir, but you need to be behind the barricade. This is…"

"A dangerous situation, I know. I’m Carlos Sandoval of the Dallas PD. I need to speak with Captain Banks."

"We appreciate that you want to help, but this is Cascade, not Dallas. We know how to do our jobs."

"I’m not saying you don’t. I just need to talk to Captain Banks. It’s very important."

"I’m sure it is but you’re going to have to wait…"

"You’re not getting me. I need to…"

"I’m sure you do, buddy, but not today. Dobbins, gimme a hand."

"Wait! Captain Banks! Captain Banks! Simon!"

"Sandoval?" Simon looked up from the map in front of him, cell phone at his ear. He gestured to the two SWAT team guys about to haul off Carlos. "Let him through." He turned his attention back to the map and the phone. "Yeah. Yeah, I found it. See you in forty-five, Jim. Sandoval, why the hell aren’t you in the hotel? Are Standish and Malloy with you?"

"No, sir, they’re still inside," Carlos admitted uneasily.

"And just how are you out here while they’re in there?"

The bland tone of voice only made Carlos more nervous. "I only thought I was going to be gone a couple of minutes. I didn’t think anything would happen," he tried to explain. Facing Banks was almost as bad as facing Walker after he’d done something spectacularly stupid.

Simon stared at him for a long moment then shook his head. "I’m not going to bother saying anything. You’re gonna lay enough guilt on yourself. Right now we don’t have a lot of information. No contact from inside yet. It looks like it’s the Patriots which means Moran is probably in there. Jim, Blair, Chris, and Vin are on their way back. About forty-five minutes until they get here. I’ve already sent Taggart and Connors to get schematics for the building. All we can do at the moment is wait."

Carlos nodded, his gaze drifted unhappily to the imposing bulk of the Grand Cascade Hotel.

* * * * * * *

As Buck stirred groggily, the sedative still making him lethargic, he felt a hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice.

"Easy, Brother. Just relax."

"Josiah?" Buck’s eyes flew open as memory returned. "JD!?"

"Easy, Buck," Nathan soothed as Josiah easily held him down in his weakened state. "JD’s not here."

"I know. She took him. We gotta," Buck finally noticed they weren’t in his and JD’s room and there was a man with an automatic standing by the door watching them. "Uh, what the hell did I miss?"

"It appears the hotel has been commandeered by these men," Josiah answered.

"Any idea who?"

"Nothing definite, but I’m gonna go with those patriot people Jim mentioned this morning," Nathan said as he checked Buck over. "We were all gassed, but you weren’t. You would have woken up sooner. What happened?"

"Ain’t rightly sure," Buck said as they helped him to sit up. He opened the top couple of buttons of his denim shirt to reveal where the tranquilizer dart had hit him. "JD and I had gone back to the room. He needed one of his computer gadgets for his seminar but had forgotten it. While I was waiting there was a knock on the door. It was one of the chambermaids. Pretty little Spanish girl. But she knew my name and the next thing I know she’s pulling a gun and shooting me with I guess a tranq. That’s all I remember. She must have taken JD. But why? Could she be working with Moran?"

"That don’t make sense." Nathan shook his head. "Why take one person when less than twenty minutes later you’re taking the entire hotel hostage? Maybe she’s working for that Stalker guy? What do you think, Josiah?"

"I think that perhaps we have made a serious miscalculation," he replied distractedly, a frown knitting his brows as he contemplated the floor tiles.

"Yeah, what’s that, Josiah?" Buck asked.

"All this time we have assumed that the Stalker is a man. What if he isn’t? What if he is a she?"

"Aw shit," Buck moaned.

"Indeed, Brother. Indeed."


	15. Chapter 15

Moran stood looking out one of the large windows that overlooked the city. One of the good things about this hotel, and the room in particular, was that it was the tallest building in a four-block radius and the balcony outside these windows made it impossible for a sniper to look up into the room. There was a possibility of helicopter attack, but he had men stationed on the roof with rocket launchers. The police wouldn't risk one of those rockets hitting a civilian target.

"Makes it so much easier for us," Moran murmured to himself. The reflection of his second-in-command, a dour-faced man named Dolan, appeared in the window next to him. "Yes?"

"All of the building is secure, sir, except for the sub-basement level. O'Roarke and Caden are securing them now."

"Good," Moran nodded, turning from the window. "Any casualties?"

"Four, sir. An elderly woman and a man who appeared to have suffered heart attacks from the gas and two conference attendees who tried to stop us. We're checking now on their IDs."

"Fine. Send out the word. I want our people looking for the three men in those pictures. I want them found and I want them brought to me now."

"Right away, sir." Dolan sketched a salute before heading to the corner of the room they'd set up for communications.

Turning back to the window, Moran let a feral smile creep onto his face. It wouldn't be long now before he had them in his grasp. He was going to greatly enjoy breaking Ellison and Malloy, but Tanner. Oh, he was going to have so much fun playing with Tanner. He would make that young pup scream and scream until he had no voice left to scream with.

**********

Jericho O'Roarke, mercenary-for-hire, moved silently through the sub-basement of the hotel. It was a dark, damp place, reminding him of hideouts he'd used as a child growing up in Belfast. He'd joined the IRA as soon as they let him, eager to gain vengeance on the bloody English who'd killed his parents. Nowadays, everything was politics, and if you did one little car-bombing without orders your own friends would turn you in. That was not the kind of war Jericho fought, so he'd left Ireland, hiring himself out as a mercenary. It wasn't the righteous war against the bloody English, but it paid well enough and fed his thirst for blood.

The sound of voices, or more accurately, a voice, drew his attention. As he got closer he was able to understand what was being said, and also hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

"...many years I've waited for this day? I plotted and planned. Carefully checking each and every little detail. I know more about him than God! And now he's going to slip through my fingers because some fucking idiot decided to TAKE MY BUILDING HOSTAGE!!" The feminine voice rose shrilly and Jericho heard a muffled grunt. There was a slight pause and he continued inching forward. Finally he was able to see. In a small open space among the pipes stood a slender woman, her back to Jericho as she talked to her captive. She looked like some sort of executive in her stylishly tailored aquamarine business suit, her blonde hair done up in a tight French Twist. Her heavy-heeled boots echoed dully on the concrete floor.

Her captive, a young man in his early twenties maybe, Jericho guessed, was strung up with his hands cuffed over a pipe so his feet barely touched the floor. His shirt had been stripped off, leaving him naked from the waist up. The pale flesh was already beginning to mottle with bruises. There were a couple of cuts, shallow-looking but still bleeding. Blood trickled from his nose and one eye was almost swollen shut. A large ball gag prevented the kid from doing more than grunting. Jericho couldn't help wondering what the poor bastard had done to deserve this.

A rat squeaking had her whirling around, her face a hard mask as she scanned the surrounding area. "Who's there? Show yourself. Don't make me come find you."

Slowly he stepped forward into the meager light so she could see him and the rifle he carried. 

"Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?"

"Me?" Jericho said with a lazy smile, "I work for the fooking idiot that took this buildin' hostage. Who d'ye be, lass?"

"Your best friend or your worst nightmare, depending on if you've pissed me off or not. Who do you work for? I want to meet him."

"Well now, lass, I'm not so sure," Jericho couldn't help watching the seductive sway of her hips as she walked towards him, "I, uh, I should take you to him. I mean, you still haven't told me who you are."

He swallowed convulsively as she ran her fingers lightly over the barrel of his rifle, caressing it. She smiled sweetly up at him, the fingers of her other hand travelling up the front of his shirt. Too late he started thinking with his head rather than his pants.

Like a snake striking, she twisted her fist in his shirt, pulling him down and forward. The other hand pushed the rifle to the side as she brought her knee up into his crotch then down on his instep. As he doubled over she backhanded him, sending him to the floor. She followed him down, a knife appearing in her hand. She pressed it to his throat.

"Now, lad," she sneered, the Southern accent replaced by a soft Irish lilt, "you're goin' to be a good boy and take me to the man in charge, or," she paused to smile gleefully, "I can carve you into tiny little pieces just for the pleasure of it. Ask him. He'll tell you how much I'll enjoy it. Oh wait," she giggled, "he's gagged. He can't say anything. You'll just have to take my word, won't you?"

Jericho stared up at her as he nodded his head slightly, trying to get his breathing back under control. The bint was just plain crackers. No doubt about it. He'd questioned Moran's sanity a little, but the man paid well so he didn't care. Her though, he fully believed she'd kill him just 'cause she'd enjoy it. He didn't think introducing her to Moran was a good idea, but there wasn't a chance in hell he was goin' to tell her no.

The knife disappeared into her boot as she rose to her feet. She smiled down at him. "Let's get goin', sugar."

Eyeing her warily, Jericho got to his feet slowly, wincing at the pain in his groin, rifle clutched tightly in his hands. He felt wetness and a stinging pain in his cheek. Careful probing revealed a cut. He shuddered when she lifted the hand she'd cut him with and licked the smear of blood from her ring and fingers.

"What 'bout him?" he jerked his head towards the kid watching them listlessly.

"Oh, he's just part of the plan, aren't you, puppy?," she smiled, gliding over to run a finger down the boy's cheek. "I'll tell Ezra all about how you're going to boil to death when that steam vent opens at six. How do you think he'll take it? Will he cry and scream? Or will he go all cold and unemotional? Maybe, do you think maybe he won't care, puppy? Do you think he cares what happens to you?"

She laughed that light, tinkling laugh that sent shivers down Jericho's spine as the kid jerked and shouted behind the gag. With a look of regret, he followed her to the freight elevator. Yeh, she was definitely crackers. God help them all.

**********

"Do you recognize any of these men?" Ezra said quietly to Trent. 

They were sitting with their backs against the wall, various agents, officers and a few civilians with them. When they'd come to after the gassing, it had been to discover they'd been moved along with the others from the seminar into a larger conference room. There had been fourteen people in the seminar; they were now 46 being guarded by 5 men with automatic weapons. Ezra had been most displeased to find all his weapons and his cell phone missing.

"No, I don't," Trent replied just as quietly, "But I suspect they're part of that militia group Jim told us about."

"I agree. Which means it's a good thing they didn't attend this morning. I suggest that you try to keep a low profile."

"Believe me, I plan on it."

"Will you two quit it?" hissed a slender young man to Ezra's right. "They're lookin' at us."

Ezra smiled at the guard watching them until he turned away. Then he glared at the young man. "Unless you have something to say that will aid us in effecting our emancipation from this unwelcome situation, I suggest you mind your own business."

The young man stared then finally huffed and turned away. Trent shook his head and chuckled. "You sure do like big words, don't you?"

"I am simply trying to expand the vocabulary of those around me," Ezra replied haughtily, then with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he added, "And if it happens to confuse the hell out of them, all the better."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"As you are a friend of Mr. Tanner's, that is unlikely to happen." Ezra stiffened suddenly. "Keep your head down."

Movement at the door had caught his attention. He watched a man armed with a single-shot rifle talk to the guard closest to the door, showing him what looked like newspaper clippings. Without a doubt they contained pictures of Vin, Trent and Jim. While he was quite relieved that Vin wasn't anywhere in the hotel, he feared for Trent's safety. The single-shot rifle was an oddity since all the others were carrying automatics. A flash of red on the man's belt caught his attention. 

He couldn't be certain but he hoped those were tranquilizer darts in the man's belt. It would mean Moran wanted them alive and relatively unharmed. Yes, that would be Moran's style. It would allow him a healthier captive to torture. Like the Stalker.

The two men looked at him and Ezra suddenly found himself with an assault rifle aimed at him. The one with the single-shot rifle aimed and fired at Trent. 

"What the...? Shit. Sorry, Ezra." Trent slumped over into unconsciousness.

As Ezra had hoped would be the case, Trent now had a tranquilizer dart in his shoulder rather than a bullet wound. Another man came into the room and he, along with the one who'd tranqed Trent, came towards them.

Rationally, Ezra knew these men couldn't be working with the Stalker. Nor would the Stalker have picked Trent as a target, but sometimes rationality has little to do with one's reactions. In his mind's eye, all he could see was what had been done to Eleanor and Devaney. He would not allow the same thing to happen to Trent. Vin would never forgive him.

With an inarticulate cry of rage he threw himself at the two men when they reached for Trent's unconscious body. He got the closer one in a choke-hold and kicked the other in the shoulder, sending him sprawling. Arms wrapped around him, trying to pull him loose but he held on tight. Rage coursed through him. These men wanted to hurt Vin. They didn't even know him, but they were going to hurt him. Trent was just a convenient way to get to Vin.

Hands tangled cruelly in his hair, making him grunt as his head was pulled back. Ezra had a brief glimpse of a rifle butt coming towards him, then the world exploded into darkness.

**********

Chris glanced over at Vin while trying to keep up with Jim's truck and stay on the road. Vin was quiet, too quiet, his gaze locked on the back of the blue Ford. It reminded him of how Vin had looked when he zoned out earlier.

"Vin?" He couldn't quite keep the worry from his voice.

"I'm here, cowboy," Vin replied softly, the suppressed rage audible in his voice, his gaze never wavering.

"What're you thinking?"

There was a long moment of silence and Chris began to wonder if Vin hadn't zoned. Vin's voice was a low growl when he finally answered.

"I'm thinkin' how I'm gonna tear those bastards apart if they've hurt Ezra. If they've hurt any of the boys. Gonna take my time with Moran if he's even touched a hair on Ezra's head. Gonna make him pay."

A shiver ran down Chris' spine at the feral light in Vin's eyes, the deadly calm voice. Over the past couple of years, he'd seen glimpses of the dangerous man that lay just beneath the surface of the placid Texan, but this was was different. This was a primal killer protecting what was his.

As they'd set up the markers for the test, Blair had told him some of the 'new' behavior he could expect to start seeing in Vin. One had been the 'Blessed Protector' mode, as Blair had put it, or as the guys would put it 'Mother Hen from hell' mode. A Sentinel was extremely protective of his Guide. Overprotective to the point of smothering at times. Chris could understand that, well, as much as he understood any of this Sentinel business. Actually it sounded like typical behaviour for most of the team whenever any of them was hurt and in the hospital. But Blair hadn't said anything about this cold-blooded killer.

Turning his attention back to the road, Chris prayed that nothing happened to Ezra. Not that he wouldn't be angry that they'd hurt the Southern cuss, but because he didn't know how Vin would react. 

No, he knew how Vin would react. He just didn't know if he'd be able to control him, or if he'd even want to.


	16. Chapter 16

"I just don't get it, Josiah," Buck sighed. "I mean, I've known plenty of women who were full of fire, but I just can't see a woman doing what this Stalker has done."

"A lot of people have a hard time seeing women as being capable of any kind of violence, much less this level, but it doesn't mean they aren't," Josiah chided.

"True, but still some of the people this Stalker killed, the way they were killed...most women just don't have that kind of strength," Nathan pointed out.

"As you said, 'most' women do not and this one might not either. From what I saw in the file I'm not entirely convinced that she was working alone on the first couple of murders."

"Great!" Buck lowered his voice when one of the guards looked at them. "You mean to tell JD's been taken by not one, but two psychopaths?"

"No. I said it looked like there was an accomplice on the first three murders. The first three targets were all men, all connected to Sybil Deveraux in some way. It wasn't until her murder that the nursery rhymes began to appear at the scene of the crimes and she was the first one to be sexually assaulted."

"Not following what you're saying, pard."

"Sybil Deveraux was the Stalker's first true target, but even she was just a means to get to John Harrington, a man with more than a few indiscretions in his past."

"Including Sybil Deveraux and his second wife."

"Exactly," Josiah nodded to Nathan.

"So, what, this Stalker is one of Harrington's old affairs? Doesn't explain going after the men, those kids, and with such brutality. And why not any of his other affairs?"

"All good questions. I can only guess that at some point he had either proposed marriage or perhaps seriously discussed it with the Stalker but instead chose to marry another. The rhyme found with the children said 'the false family'. She may have felt she was supposed to be the mother of his 'true' children. It's even possible that she'd become pregnant with his child but because of timing and circumstances he chose to discontinue the relationship and then married another."

"A woman scorned is not something you want to mess with. I get that, but still..." Buck sighed and shook his head. He glanced at Josiah. "She didn't take JD too long before these yahoos took over the hotel. Do you think maybe they were caught up in the sweep and he's safe?"

"I hope so, Buck. I really hope so."

They all settled back against the wall saying their own silent prayers, hoping they weren't fool's prayers.

*******

Calla strode into the presidential suite completely ignoring the dozen or so guns that were cocked and aimed at her. Jericho trailed behind her, still dabbing at the bleeding cut on his cheek. Her imperious gaze swept the room until it landed on the only man not pointing a gun at her.

"Are you the one in charge here?"

"That depends on who's asking and why," he answered with a sardonic smile.

"Y'all have interrupted the plans of revenge I have spent the past seven years crafting to perfection," her sugar-coated Southern drawl did little to hide the hard edge to her voice. "Now I really don't care why y'all are here, but seeing as this forces me to change my plans I think it best we work together. This way we can both achieve what we want."

"Really?" Moran laughed. "And why should I care what you think or want?"

Calla folded her arms over her chest, her smile chilling as she regarded them with dead emotionless eyes. "Because you do not wish to be on my bad side. By the time I'm done there's usually not much left of them or those they care for."

Jericho edged his way around her to cross to Moran. She reminded him of a cobra he'd seen on some wild animal documentary, all coiled and ready to strike if you pissed it off. He sidled up to his boos, keeping a wary eye on her. "Captain, sir? She may seem like a cocky bitch, but I'd lay money on her bein' cold-blooded enough to do it. I found her beating some kid she had strung up by his wrists in the boiler room. Poor bastard is positioned right in front of a steam vent that's timed to release around six o'clock this afternoon. He'll be boiled alive inside of five minutes. I'm not sure he's the one she's even brassed off at."

"He's not," Calla said sweetly. "He is simply the first pawn to tumble before I reach the king. Now do you want my help or not?"

"And just how is it you're going to help me, little lady?" Moran asked leaning nonchalantly against the table they'd setup their communications on. Calla smiled slyly as she wandered around the room, her fingers trailing seductively across the chests of the men she passed.

"I've been studying the man I'm after for years now, and," she turned from the man she stood in front of to face Moran, "I've studied his friends. ATF Team Seven from Denver. Fierce men. Loyal men. All of whom have their weaknesses. Weaknesses I know how to exploit. Those men are one of the real dangers you face. Certainly not the cops outside."

"You said one of the dangers. What else do you think is a danger to us?"

"Oh. That would be me."

With the swiftness of a striking cobra Calla whirled on the man behind her. One hand curved into a claw raked across his face before she rammed the heel of her other hand into his solar plexus. An elbow between the shoulder blades knocked him to the floor. She relieved him of his rifle. After quickly and efficiently checking it she leveled it at Moran.

"I can be a dangerous enemy," Calla paused to switch on the safety and toss it to him, "or a powerful ally. The choice is yours."

"Get him out of here," Moran ordered tossing the rifle to one of his men. "What's your name?"

"I've gone by so many over the years. Call me Calla."

"So, Calla, who is this man you're looking for?"

Calla pulled a fairly recent photo out of her pocket and showed it to him. "His name is Ezra Standish. An undercover agent. He used to work for the FBI but now works for the ATF. He is my husband-to-be."

Moran looked at her sharply. "You're hunting your fiancé?"

"Ezra is...currently unaware of our...engagement," she said with another falsely sweet smile. "I intend to remedy that fact."

"I see. I take it you'd like my men to retrieve him for you?"

"Seeing as how you've ruined all of my other carefully laid plans that would be appreciated." She pulled another photo from her pocket. "The remaining five men in this picture should be shot on sight."

"Tanner," Moran growled looking at the photo. "All except him. I want him alive."

"Ooo. Have plans for him, do we?" Calla grinned evilly. "I hope they're fun."

"They will be," he said returning her grin, then nodded at the photo. "What about the boy? He's been eliminated already?"

"Might as well be. He's the one I have hanging down in the boiler room."

Jericho shuddered at the total lack of remorse he saw in the madwoman's eyes. That wasn't a death he would wish on anyone.

"Works for me." Moran shrugged. "Anderson. Greaves. Tompkins. Find this Standish and bring him back here."

"Unharmed," Calla added. "I don't want to see a single bruise on him."

The three men selected nodded and quickly filed out of the door. Jericho slipped out behind them, ignoring the two men carrying in an unconscious blonde man. He wouldn't be able to get the kid out of the hotel, but he could make sure he didn't boil to death.

"Ah, good. Lieutenant Malloy has joined us," Moran grinned when he saw the blonde man being drug in. "Put him in the chains on that wall and then wake him. Torturing someone is no fun if they're passed out. Don't you agree, my dear?"

"Oh, indeed. What's the point of making someone bleed if you can't hear them scream?" She licked her lips in obvious arousal.

"My, my. You are indeed a woman after my own heart." Moran chuckled. The laughter quickly died. Once the guards had shackled Trent's arms they'd held smelling salts beneath his nose. He was disoriented for a few seconds but soon took advantage of his legs not being bound. Trent kicked one in the stomach then managed to get his legs wrapped around another man's neck.

Calla darted in and plunged a thin dagger into Trent's upper right thigh making him scream and lose his hold on the guard. As the guard stumbled away Moran followed up with a hard punch to Trent's stomach knocking the air out of him.

"Bind his legs, you idiots," Moran growled, "and leave the knife in there as a reminder." Spinning around he moved to stand over the man at their communications table. "I want updates now! Where is Ellison and Tanner?"

"Y-yes, sir. All retrieval units report in with status updates."

"This is RU1, targets 1 and 2 are not here. Repeat, 1 and 2 are not here."

"Copy that. RU2, any luck?"

"Negative. We've searched our floors and they are not here."

"RU3?"

"We have two more rooms to search, but we emptied these floors earlier. I doubt we're going to find them."

"God-damned bastards! Why the hell aren't they in the hotel?! That's it. Get me Banks on the phone now!"

"Sir?"

"Captain Banks. The police, you idiot."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

Moran turned away looking towards Trent and Calla who was eyeing him like a work of art. She gave Moran an impish smile when she saw him watching.

"Mind if I play with him a little?" she asked, producing another dagger.

"Go ahead, but I want him alive when I finally get my hands on Ellison and Tanner."

"Oh, don't worry. I just want to make him bleed a little. There are ever so many places I can cut him that won't kill him. Would you like to know what those places are, kitten?" She smiled as she used the dagger to cut open his t-shirt, leaving his chest exposed. Trent gritted his teeth as she made the first shallow cut over his collarbone. Calla pouted at him. "Come now, kitten. I want to hear you scream."

She made another shallow cut along his ribs. Trent refused to scream. Moran just sat back to watch the show.

*******

Simon chewed on his unlit cigar as he stared at the hotel across the street. The Sunrise Patriots were really starting to be a serious pain in his ass. The only good thing about this whole thing was for once his son Daryl wasn't around to be used as a hostage.

A good thing too he supposed that Jim and Vin weren't in the hotel. He had to wonder though how long before Moran figured it out. Probably soon. An hour had passed since they took over the hotel.

"Captain Banks, sir?"

"Yeah?" Simon turned towards the young officer approaching him.

"The terrorists, sir. They'd like to talk to you, sir."

"I just bet. You know who Captain Taggart is?

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Find him and ask him to get me Det. Ellison on the phone."

"Right away, sir."

Simon made his way quickly to the S.W.A.T. communications van. Lt. Jacobs handed him the phone.

"This is Captain Banks. Who am I speaking with?"

"Why don't we cut to the chase, Banks. I know who you are and you know who I am. I want Ellison and Tanner."

"You know I can't do that."

"Yes, you can and you will."

"Really. And how can you be so sure?"

"Watch the front doors of the hotel. I didn't want to kill these people but they fought my men. If Ellison and Tanner aren't standing on the front steps of this hotel in one hour I will execute someone. In two hours I will execute two more people, and so on. Oh, and just to give Ellison and Tanner a little bit of incentive there's someone you should talk to."

There was a brief moment of silence then, "Captain Banks?"

"Malloy? Are you alright?"

"Been better, sir. Keep them out. Don't let them come in. Don't worr..."

A muffled grunt cut off Trent and then Moran was back. "Always was too damned noble for his own good. One hour, Banks. One hour. Oh, and if you’re thinking of trying to send SWAT in here or do something else equally ‘heroic’ I would like to point out that I have enough explosives planted around this building to level an entire city block."

Simon glared at the phone when all he got was a dial tone. Lt. Jacobs stiffened besides him.

"We've got movement at the door."

Sure enough the front doors of the hotel had opened and several armed men came out. The sight of what followed them set a cold rage burning in Simon's gut. "Nobody fire! I repeat, nobody fire."

They all watched as what looked to be several hostages carried out four bodies. The dead were laid out carefully on the ground a good distance from the doors then the hostages were quickly herded back inside.

"Goddamn bastard," Simon snarled. "Send men in to retrieve those people. High alert."

"Of course, sir." Jacobs gestured to several people before heading towards the front of the police barricade. Joel arrived then, cell phone in hand.

"I've got Jim on the phone."

"Good. Ellison? How close are you guys?"

"We'll be at the hotel in ten minutes."

"Alright. I need you and Tanner to stay out of sight. Moran knows you're not in the hotel or here and I want to keep it that way."

”Trent?”

Simon sighed. “He’s alive, but that’s about all I can tell you.”

“It’ll have to do. We’ll pull into the alleyway behind the diner that’s right there. There’s access off of 130th St. We can set up a base of operations in there without worrying about being seen.”

“That’ll work. I’ll have it cleared out now. See you in a few minutes.” Clicking the end button, he turned to Joel. “I want that diner there cleared of civilians. Then get Connors, Rafe, Henri, and Carlos in there.”

“I’m on it.”

Simon turned to the men in the SWAT van. “Do we have schematics for the hotel yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I want them and the bomb squad in that diner in five minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

Simon turned back to the hotel, face grim. He was getting too old for this shit.

*******

Trent choked back a scream as Calla drew a line with the dagger point along the underside of his bicep. It wouldn't hurt so much except that most of his weight was resting on his arms chained above his head. When the door to the suite opened distracting Calla he never felt so relieved. That relief quickly turned to dread when an unconscious Ezra was dragged in.

"You found him!" Calla squealed like a little girl, bouncing over to the them. Slipping a hand under Ezra's chin, she lifted his face so she could see him. "I said unmarked, you halfwits!"

She moved with deadly accuracy, slicing the throat of one guard. The second almost suffered the same fate but moved fast enough that she only got a glancing blow on his shoulder. Before she could try again Moran grabbed her arm.

"As exciting as your bloodthirstiness is I need these men alive. Your man there just has some bruising, certainly nothing life-threatening."

She snarled softly yanking her arm from his grasp turning to the guard still holding Ezra. "Take him into that bedroom and tie him to a chair. Think you can handle that?"

The man gritted his teeth obviously wanting to say something but wisely remained silent. He just nodded doing as she'd ordered. 

Calla sauntered after them, daintily licking at the blood on her dagger. Inside the bedroom she'd indicated she found a straight-backed chair with no arms and had the guard tie Ezra to it. When Ezra was settled to her liking she snapped, "Out."

The guard was more than happy to leave the room, almost feeling sorry for whatever she had planned for the poor bastard. Almost. 

With a twisted smirk Calla hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob before closing and locking it. She then turned back to her captive. Smiling wickedly, she walked around him enjoying the sight.

"Oh, we're going to have so much fun, my love. You're going to give me what I want and I'll make you forget all about that bitch."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible triggers, see end notes.

Simon chewed angrily on his unlit cigar, watching as SWAT retrieved the four bodies that had been brought out. Once they were out of the danger zone he headed towards where the ambulances and paramedics had setup. The gathered crowd of detectives and patrolmen parted before him, no one wanting to get on his bad side today.

Reaching the cordoned off area, he demanded, “Who’s in charge here?”

“I am. You are?” A tall woman replied. She wore the uniform of a paramedic, her long black hair pulled back into a tight braid.

“Captain Banks. I’m in charge of the police here.”

“Maggie Dumont. I’m guessing you want a status report?”

Simon nodded.

“Alright. Just give me a minute.”

She moved efficiently from body to body, talking to the medics at each, sometimes examining the body herself. Finished with the last one she returned to Simon.

“I’m guessing you already suspected they were all dead. Two are definitely gunshot victims. The elderly couple most likely suffered from some sort of cardiac arrest. I can’t tell you for sure but it looks like they were probably gassed. Most people it would just knock out but someone with a heart condition or infirm it would likely kill.”

“And you know this because?”

“Army medic. Did some time in the Gulf during Desert Storm.”

“I see. Thank you.”

“No problem. You want me to call the morgue boys for these people?”

“That would be a good idea. Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

With a nod Simon headed towards the diner. As he got closer he could see that Jim, Blair, Chris and Vin had arrived and from the looks of it Jim and Chris were the only thing keeping Vin from killing Carlos.

Great. Time to play referee and hope that everyone comes out of this alive.

*******

JD groaned behind the gag in his mouth as he shifted again, trying to relieve some of the strain in his arms. As it was his legs were beginning to quiver from standing on tip-toes. Not that he had a whole lot of choice in that regard. The pipe his hands were cuffed over was just high enough that he couldn’t stand flat anyway, putting more pressure on his arms and wrists.

He had no idea how long he had been there. When he came to from whatever she’d shot him with he had already been chained to the pipe. She’d then spent awhile taking her anger out on him before the other guy showed up. After they’d left the small area had been plunged into semi-darkness when she turned off the lights. There was still some light from a dim bulb further down the corridor but it wasn’t much.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, JD tried to work the muscles in his jaw a little bit. He really wished that she’d taken the damn ball gag off when she’d left. Not even so that he could call for help, which as much as he’d like to think someone would hear him he doubted it, but so that his jaw would stop cramping. JD really didn’t understand how anyone could stand to wear one of these things for any length of time. He and Casey had gone into a sex shop once and there’s been some on display. Neither one of them had been willing to try it at the time and JD was glad they hadn’t now.

A squeaking sound to his right had JD twisting around nearly losing his balance. Once he’d regained his equilibrium he strained to see in the darkness. He heard the sound again. He tried to shout through the gag, hoping that even muffled someone would hear him. The squeaking got closer and JD could see two little red eyes glowing in the dark.

Rats.

JD whimpered. He’d never really had a problem with the creatures but he’d never been tied to a pipe and unable to defend himself either. He just knew he was going to be having nightmares for weeks after this.

*******

Vin paced restlessly as Chris, Jim, Blair, Simon and Carlos studied the schematics of the hotel. He knew he should be doing the same, should be helping to develop a plan, but he couldn't concentrate on that. All he could concentrate on was the fact that Ezra was being held hostage in that hotel by the madman that haunted his nightmares. Not only that, but the demon that haunted Ezra's nightmares was also somewhere in there. And he was stuck here waiting.

He snarled at the waitress when she asked him if he wanted anything. Hell, no, he didn't want something to drink or eat. What he wanted was to go charging into the hotel and kill the son of a bitch who'd taken *his* Guide hostage.

A hand on his arm brought him to a sudden halt. Without thinking, he pivoted on his heel, fist flying to punch whomever had grabbed him. Another hand caught his fist before it could connect.

Vin found himself facing a startled Chris. Jim was holding his arm.

"You need to focus, Runt," Jim said softly. "I know how you're feeling. You want to go in there and rip apart anyone standing between you and your Guide. Doing that is going to get you both killed. We can't just go charging in there."

"If Moran..."

"Moran isn't interested in Ezra. I doubt he'd even think it."

"He went after Sensei's kid brother."

"That's an obvious link, Vin. Don't give him more credit than he deserves."

"Hey, guys," Carlos interrupted. "I think we've got a way in.”

This stopped everyone in their tracks as they all turned to look at him. Carlos swallowed hard at the amount of attention he was suddenly receiving.

“What did you find, Sandoval?” Simon asked. He knew how intimidating Jim could be and Larabee and Tanner weren’t any better.

“There’s a sewer access here,” he pointed to a symbol on the schematics he had laid out on the table in front of him, “in the basement.”

“So? They’ve probably got it wired already in case any tries to access it,” the Bomb Squad Captain said.

“If they knew about it,” Carlos replied. “These aren’t the public records for the hotel. These are from City Maintenance, which the public can’t access. I checked the hotel blueprints and this access isn’t on the originals or the addendums. As far as I can tell it’s in a fairly out of the way spot so they shouldn’t have even noticed it.”

“Good work, Sandoval,” Simon said. The others nodded though they were largely ignoring him in favor of studying the schematics.

“This can work,” Jim said finally.

“Yeah,” Chris nodded in agreement. “This place is a virtual maze. Plenty of hiding places.”

“Air ducts are big enough to fit in,” Vin added. “Even rated to support up to 250 lbs. Think you can fit, Cap’n?”

“Ha ha, Runt. 220.”

“Lose some weight recently?”

“Keep it up, Tanner, and we’ll see who has the last laugh.” Jim glanced at Chris. “Military?”

“Navy SEALs.”

“Good. Me, Larabee and Tanner will go in first. The Bomb Squad and a SWAT team will follow behind us. We’ll…”

“I’m going with you,” Carlos interrupted.

Jim looked at him steadily. “Were you ever in the military? Any Special Forces training?”

“No. But…”

“Then you’re not going.”

“But...”

“You’re not going and that’s final. Same goes for you, Chief. We’ll stay in radio contact but you’re staying here.”

Blair looked like he was going to protest for a moment then just nodded. “Fine. Constant radio contact.”

“As much as I can, Chief. As I was saying, Vin, Chris, and myself will go in first and make our way to the Presidential Suite where Moran is holed up.” He looked to the Bomb Squad Captain. “I want to know as soon as you guys know if you can disable these things. Moran is psychotic but he’s never been suicidal. On the off chance that he is serious I want them taken care of as quickly as possible.” Jim looked at his watch. “Alright, people. We’ve got 40 minutes before Moran executes someone. I want everyone who’s going suited up and ready to go in five. Move it, people.”

There was a flurry of activity as everyone moved to get ready. Within the allotted time they were all geared up and met back at the counter in the diner. Carlos was still studying the map.

“There’s sewer access right behind this diner,” Carlos pointed it out on the map, tracing the path they would need to follow with his finger. “Once you’re in you head north 100 feet then turn left. That will take you straight across under the street. At this T intersection you’ll make another left and go 175 feet. Make a right. 25 feet from there you’ll find the access into the hotel. It’s the western-most edge of the hotel. As near as I can tell it’s a maintenance area but I can’t be sure.”

“That’s good enough. Good work, Sandoval.” Jim clapped him on the back. He looked around at the others. “We’re on a time limit with this so work fast but play it safe. We don’t want to give Moran any reason to get an itchy trigger finger. Watch yourself, Runt. I know you want to find Ezra but we need to take down Moran first. You got me?”

When he didn’t respond right away Jim grabbed his shoulder and shook him. Vin glared at him but met his gaze. “I got you, Cap’n.”

“Good. Let’s get going, people. Time’s wasting.”

Vin turned and took the lead heading out to the alleyway. As they followed behind him Jim gave Chris a meaningful look. Chris nodded in response. He would stick by Vin. It would be his responsibility to keep the new Sentinel focused on the task at hand. Jim didn’t envy him.

******

The first thing Ezra felt was pain. Whoever had knocked him out had done so with a good amount of force. His head was killing him and he probably had a good sized lump to go along with it. Groaning, he tried to bring his hand up to his head only to find it wouldn’t move. It took him a moment to blink open his eyes, the light of the room blinding him the first time. When he was finally able to open his eyes with minimal pain he found himself in a large bedroom. Hardly what he’d expected to see considering he’d been in a conference room when he’d been knocked out. It was at that point that he realized he was tied to a chair, which explained why he couldn’t move his arms.

“You’re awake!” A feminine voice practically squealed followed by the woman coming into his line of sight. She was well-dressed, beautiful and vaguely familiar. Maybe she had been one of the hostages? Or someone he’d seen at the conference? Though that didn’t explain why he was tied up at she was not.

“Yes, apparently I am. Do you think, perhaps, Madam, you might effect my emancipation from these bonds?”

“Oh, sugah, you always did like using those fancy words of yours. The answer however is no. I went through all the trouble of having you tied up. I’m certainly not going to untie you now.”

“I’m sorry, Madam, but do we know each other? Why would you want me tied up?” There was also the question of how had she gotten him away from the men who’d taken over the hotel, but he figured that could wait for the moment.

“You don’t recognize me, sugah? I’m hurt. Truly I am.” She shrugged and smiled. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You only met me twice when I looked like this. Calla Lily Harrington, at your service. Well, technically you’re at my service, aren’t you?”

Ezra struggled not to show any reaction as she giggled madly. He had met Calla Harrington a couple of times during the course of the investigation of the Valentine Stalker case. She had been ruled out as a suspect relatively quickly. That she was standing here now with him as her captive had Ezra questioning every theory they’d had about that case. Then something she’d said caught his attention. “What do you mean when you looked like this? How else have I met you?”

“Hmm, let see, you might remember Lacey Jones.” She pulled a pair of tortoise shell glasses from her pocket, slipped them on, and then quickly twisted her hair up into a bun. Her whole demeanor changed to one of prim innocence.

~~~~

"Happy birthday, Ezra," said Lacey Jones, the secretary for the Violent Crimes division as she handed him his mail.

Ezra looked up from the file he was reading. "Birthday? Thank you, my dear, but it is not my birthday. That's not for at least another three months."

Lacey brushed a strand of pale blonde hair behind her ear and pushed up her tortoise shell glasses. "Oh, but you got a birthday card. Or I assumed it's a birthday card." She flipped through his mail and pulled out a pink envelope with 'Ezra Standish' written on it. "See?"

He stared at the pink envelope in horror.

~~~~

"No." Ezra shook his head in denial. The woman standing before him couldn't possibly be the shy, sweet girl who'd gotten him coffee every day for six months.

"Yes," she purred as she straddled him, her arms looping around his neck. "Or maybe you'll remember Becca Lynn DeShaw better. You sure knew how ta get mah motah running," she said in a thick Southern drawl, leaning in close to him, her lips almost brushing his as she ground her pelvis against his groin.

~~~~

"Good Lord," Ezra panted, turning his head to smile at the young woman lying next to him. "I swear, Miss Becca Lynn."

"You swear what, Mistah Ezra Standish?" she grinned as she rolled onto her side, her hand moving to caress the smooth planes of his chest. "Mmmm, you sure do get mah motah running, Mistah Standish."

"Really, now."

"Really," she purred, then laughed when he rolled her onto her back and pinned her to the bed.

"Well, we're just going to have to do something about that, aren't we?"

~~

"Come in, Becca Lynn. Thank you for coming over," Ezra said as he held the door open for the curvy brunette.

"Is everything alright, Ezra? You look pale, sugah." She reached up to gently cup his cheek, concern on her face and in her voice.

"I...please sit down, darlin'. I need to talk to you."

"Alright," she said, her own voice a little shaky as she sat on the couch. "What's going on?"

"I...I told you that I've been working on a big case at work, right?"

"That Valentine Stalker person. That poor woman. The paper didn't give any details but it sounded awful."

"Yes, it is. It's a very difficult case, very draining. I think, for now, it would be best if we stopped seeing each other. I need to concentrate on this case right now, and I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to give you the attention you deserve."

"You're breaking up with me?"

"No. Not really. Not permanently. I just need some time right now. As soon as this case is over, I promise I will call you."

"Cross your heart?"

"Cross my heart."

"Are we still going out tonight?"

"Of course. Unless I'm needed at work, I'm all yours for the evening."

"Good. Then I think we should stay in so I can make sure you don't forget me," she said, snuggling up close to him.

"I could never forget you, darlin'," he murmured as he brought his lips down over hers.

~~~~~

"Dear Lord, you were both of them? But you were in Europe. And what was done to those people... How could you? How could you kill my friends like that?"

"Oh Ezra. Ezra, Ezra. Sugah, don't you know a woman can do anything she sets her mind to? Hasn't Maude taught you anything? Speaking of Maude, how is she enjoying the French Riviera with, oh what was his name? Ah, yes, *Fitzgerald*. Don't look so surprised, sugah. I know everything there is to know about you, about your friends. Everything. I couldn't be with you, but I made sure I knew all there was to know. Because you're mine, Ezra Standish. You always will be."

“Why? Why are you doing this? You killed all those people. You drove your father to suicide. Why would you do something like that?”

“Because, sugah, I always get what I want. Dearest Daddy always taught me that if you want something you should go after it with everything you have. He taught me by example you know. I was ten the first time he decided he wanted me. At first I tried to tell him no. Grown-ups weren’t supposed to touch you,” she paused biting her lip as she smiled and ground her hips down again, “down there. But he was my Daddy and he loved me, told me I was his special little girl, told me how pretty I was, and how much he needed me. I loved my Daddy, loved how he made me feel. So special. Like I was the prettiest girl in the world. And the things he did to me… They felt so good. Then when I was fourteen I became pregnant. I was so happy.”

Ezra listened with growing horror as she talked about how delighted she was that she was going to give her ‘Beloved Daddy’ a baby. She told him how she’d believed her Daddy would divorce her ‘Mean Mother’ and marry her and they’d live happily ever after. The woman was seriously disturbed and apparently had been since childhood, was all Ezra could think.

“Then I miscarried my baby and Daddy sent me away to school. He said it was in my best interest, but it wasn’t. I wanted to be with my Daddy. I wanted to make another baby with him. Then I found out about her.” The last word was snarled as she pushed away from Ezra to stalk across the room. “That Deveraux woman. I found out how Daddy had been cheating on me with her. I realized then Daddy would have to be punished for being bad. So I waited and I learned what I needed to so that I could punish Daddy. Of course Mother needed to be punished first. It’s amazing how easy it is to convince a person they’re losing their mind until finally they just snap one day. It was so much fun teaching Mother that she should learn when to leave things alone.” She smiled wickedly but it turned to scowl once more. “I thought Daddy would send for me then. That he’d want me home. Instead he married that gold-digging bitch Melinda. He gave her not one, but two children. Those should have been my children. My children! Now Daddy really needed to be punished. I went to Europe for school and found myself a nice boyfriend from the wrong side of the tracks. He was so easy to manipulate. The violence turned him on so much.

“Unfortunately he started talking about what ‘liberties’ he was going to take with that Deveraux woman when we finally kidnapped her. I couldn’t allow him to do that so I had to get rid of him. That was alright though, because I had already met you, my love.” She smiled as she straddled him again, her hands gently stroking his face and hair. “So handsome. So smart. Such a gentleman. So insatiable in bed. I knew the moment I met you that I had found the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The man who was going to give me beautiful babies. Things were going so perfectly. I didn’t even mind when you temporarily broke things off with Becca Lynn. I knew you would come back to me once I had gotten rid of Daddy. It was so easy making it look like he’d killed himself. But you didn’t come back to me did you, Ezra? You proposed to her. You were no better than Daddy. I had to punish you. Don’t you see? You had to realize what a bad boy you’d been. Then you disappeared and I couldn’t find you. Until three years ago when I started the rumors about you being on the take. How quickly they brought you back in from the undercover work. Then you moved to Denver to join your precious little team 7. I planned it out all so carefully. That idiot Moran screwed things up a bit, but in the end I still got you, my love.”

This time as she leaned in close, she did kiss him. He kept his lips clamped shut, trying to turn his head to the side, but she had a strong grip on his hair, holding him in place.

"Don't you get it, Ezra? My sweet love. We were destined for each other. We are soul mates."

"No! Never!" Ezra shouted at here. "There isn't a chance in hell that we could ever be soul mates. You're an evil sociopathic bitch."

*crack*

Ezra's head snapped to the side from the force of the blow.

"I will tolerate many things, but I will not tolerate verbal abuse from you, Ezra." She glared at him as he blinked owlishly. Then she smiled and leaned forward to lick at the small bit of blood on the corner of his mouth. "We are mates, my love, and it's time you fulfilled your husbandly duties."

Ezra stared at her uncomprehendingly until she slid off his lap and began to undo the button of his pants. Anger and fear crashed over him in equal waves as he began to struggle against his bonds.

"No! Get away from me! Stop! Get off me, you bitch!" Ezra's head snapped back again as she slapped him. He didn't stay stunned for long, struggling anew as she reached into her bag and pulled out a ball gag.

"It didn't have to be this way, my love. I wanted to hear your moans of pleasure. I wanted to hear you crying my name as you spill your seed deep in my womb."

"Nev...mmmph!" Ezra's words were cut off as she gagged him. He raged against the gag, pulling ineffectually at his bonds, but the ropes were tied too well and just cut into his skin.

He struggled helplessly as she undid his pants and worked them along with his boxers over his hips. He shouted into the gag as she cooed at him, telling him how virile he was, how they would have so many fine babies together. When his body began to respond to her ministrations, becoming aroused at her touch, Ezra fled into the recesses of his mind. He left behind what was being done to his body and found a place that was safe, a place where no one could hurt him.

*****

It didn’t take them long to get through the sewers to the access grate in the hotel. Climbing the ladder to the grate, Jim slipped a small mirror on a stick through an opening, rotating it until he was certain he wouldn’t set anything off the second he opened it. Satisfied he pushed it open and pulled himself up. Chris and Vin came up right behind him followed by the bomb squad. A few quick hand gestures sent the bomb squad in one direction while Jim, Chris, and Vin went in the other direction.

They found the grate covering the entrance to the ventilation ducts. Jim and Chris quickly got it open. Before Vin could climb Jim grabbed his arm.

“Once we’re inside we split up. Vin and Chris, you two stick together. I’ll head to the far side of the hotel before starting up.”

“What’s the point of splitting up?” Chris demanded. “We’ll just have to find each other again when we get up there.”

“True, but if we’re spotted it won’t be all of us together. It’ll leave someone able go after whoever got caught. I want you two to stick together though. Vin, runt, you’re still learning how to use your senses which means you’re going to be more susceptible to zone outs. Right now Chris is the best one to bring you out if it happens but only if he’s near you. I’ve got Blair on the radio so it’s not a worry for me. If you find any of your guys and can get them free without getting caught do so and have them start getting people out of here. Ill do the same. Otherwise I want to meet up just outside the Presidential Suite where he’s holed up in fifteen minutes. That gives us ten minutes until his first deadline. We good?”

Surprisingly it was Chris who took a moment to nod his agreement. Thinking about it as he crawled into the ductwork, Jim wasn’t really surprised. He and Chris were both leaders, both Alpha males as Sandburg would put it. Neither one of them liked giving up control. In this case though, Jim knew more about their enemy and he knew what Vin was going through with his senses. Thankfully Chris was man enough to know when he wasn’t the right person to lead. Now Jim just hoped he was.

**********

Jericho moved quickly through the basement hallways heading down to the boiler room where he’d found Calla and her prey. He still had time before that valve was supposed to go, but he didn’t trust her not to come down to play with the poor kid some more. He also didn’t know how much time he would have before Moran’s plans went arse over tits.

He paused at a bend hearing voices just ahead. Inching forward he stopped once he could hear what they were saying.

“Who ever rigged this is a genius. Fucking Nuts, but a genius”

“So glad you approve, now can you disarm it?

“Yeah”

“The design is great until you get to here. It looks like to get the layering effect but still have …”

“I don’t care how just do it”

“Yes, sir”

Jericho sighed, pulling back from the bend. ‘Wonderful, the bloody bomb squad’. Quickly reviewing his mental map of the basement levels, Jericho made his way around them. He only hoped they weren’t as incompetent as some of the squads back home. This place would be a pit of rubble if they screwed up.

A few minutes later he made it to where he’d found Calla and the kid. He was still in the same spot, slumped over, arms bearing most of his weight. Not the most comfortable position.

“Hey, boyo, you awake?” Jericho hissed quietly, moving closer to him. There was no movement from the kid, except the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, until Jericho touched his arm. Suddenly the kid lashed out with his legs, catching Jericho in the side. He dodged the next kick, getting behind him and wrapped a hand around his mouth, muffling the already muffled cries even more.

“Calm down boyo, ‘M not here to hurt. Bloody hell will you shut up before you bring the whole place down around us?”

He was another minute before he slumped back against Jericho, his breathing harsh behind the gag.

“Ye done now?” When he didn’t get a response Jericho sighed. “If I take off the gag, ye promise not to yell? I’m not working for that psychotic bint I swear”

After a moment he felt a nod and relaxed. It only took a few seconds for him to undo the ball gag and toss it to the side. The kid let out a couple of hacking coughs that had Jericho looking towards the hallway.

“Who are you, why”, cough, “are you helping me?”

“Names Jericho. As for why” Jericho shrugged. “Dying for a cause is one thing. Dying because some bint has gone totally ‘round the bend is another” He paused, then shrugged again. “I’ve seen too many innocents die.”

“I’m hardly innocent.”

“Is that so?” Jericho smiled moving to look at the cuffs, holding the kid in place.

“It is! I’m older than I look. I’m an ATF Agent, JD Dunne.”

“Truly now? Taking in kiddies now are they?”

“You know, for someone who’s rescuing me, you’re spending a lot of time insulting me.” JD paused, biting his lip. “You’re not getting me free just to take me up to him, are you? ‘Cause if you are, I think I’d rather boil to death”

“Him”, Jericho questioned, pausing to look down at JD.

“Moran, the other psychopath in the building, at least I assume he’s the one who took it hostage.”

“Aye, he is. What do you know about him that makes being cooked like a stewed plum seem pleasurable?”

JD shrugged, then winced. “He’s after my friend Vin and a couple of his friends. He... tortured Vin pretty badly and.… and for no reason at all. Just cause he could.” JD looked away. “Vin’s… He’s one of the strongest people I know. I don’t think I could survive what he could.”

“Well I don’t know about that” Jericho replied casually, going back to the cuffs “but seemed to me you were standing up to that bint just fine and she definitely gives me the willies. Bloody American bracelets.” He spat, “Sorry, boyo, but this is going to take me a while.”

JD craned his neck around, but couldn’t see much without sending waves of pain through his arms and shoulders. “Is my pack around? Mostly grey with streaks of green, red and blue?”

“Umm, yeah. There it is.” Jericho grabbed it from the corner and brought it back over.

“Inside there’s a false lining in the bottom. Just be careful with what’s in there. A lot of it can be fragile.”

Jericho shook his head at all the tech gadgets. “Got enough gizmo’s, boyo? What’m I looking for anyway?”

“The key to my hand-cuffs, which might work on these or” he paused grinning when Jericho lifted out a thin black cloth case, “my lock picking set.”

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“The most interesting people usually are. So are we getting me out of these the easy way, or the hard way?”

“Let’s find out.” Picking up the key, Jericho rose to his feet. It only took a few seconds to find out it wouldn’t work. “Fooking shite.”

“Hard way?”

“Hard way,” Jericho confirmed. “Sorry, boyo.”

“Yeah, story of my life.” JD paused as a thought occurred to him. “You wouldn’t happen to know what time it is. Not to put, uh, any pressure on you or anything but we are under a deadline.”

“Six, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Plenty o’ time.”

JD nodded, relaxing as much as he could. He pretended not to hear Jericho’s muttered, “I hope.” He needed to believe that he would get out of this in one piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk of sexual child abuse by a parent, underage pregnancy, beginning description of rape.


	18. Chapter 18

Jim crept quietly down the hallway. Luckily this section of the hotel had several alcoves and open meeting areas, giving him plenty of places to hide from the guard he was sneaking up on. Finally he was right behind the guard and easily knocked him unconscious with a chokehold.

Grabbing the guy by his feet, Jim dragged him into the room across the hallway. It only took a few seconds to secure him and relieve him of any weapons. Jim then headed back across the hall and knocked on the door.

"Hey, I need a hand out here."

He only had to wait a few moments before the second guard came out. Jim grabbed the end of the rifle, forcing it away from him, and snapped his elbow back into the guy's nose, knocking him out. Shoving the guy out of the way he tucked and rolled into the room, gun ready as he searched for the third guard.

What he saw made him grin as he rose to his feet. Several of the hostages, led by Buck, Josiah and Nathan, had overwhelmed the remaining guard.

"Good to see you, Brother," Josiah greeted him, clasping his hand. "What's going on? Besides the hotel obviously being taken hostage..."

"Moran's here. He's up in the Presidential Suite which is where I'm headed. Saw you three through the ventilation grate and thought I'd drop in. Chris and Vin are in here too. The plan is to make our way up to Moran and take him out before he starts shooting people. Bomb squad followed us in to get at the explosives Moran has rigged around this place."

"You talk like you know this guy," said one of the freed hostages, a burly man who looked none too pleased about the whole situation.

"I do. We were at the same base for a while in the Army. He was court-martialed and sent to jail for the torture of six Privates while on a training mission."

"Jesus. What's the bastard doing here?"

"Getting revenge," Jim replied grimly, then turned back to Josiah and Nathan. "Between these three it looks like you can scrounge at least three rifles and three hand guns. I want you guys to continue freeing hostages. Work your way up floor by floor. I'm heading up after Moran."

"Hey, any word on JD, Ezra, Trent or Carlos?" Buck asked.

"Carlos is outside with Banks. He was across the street when the shit hit the fan. Moran has Trent already. The others, I don't know." Jim frowned. "I thought JD would be with you, Buck."

"He was, but the chambermaid tranqed me and I think she took JD."

"The chambermaid? Why the hell would..."

"We believe that Ezra's Stalker is not a man but a woman," Josiah interrupted.

"A woman? Huh. Never would have figured that one.”

“Most wouldn’t which is why she’s escaped detection for so long. Do not underestimate her though. She has shown that she’s intelligent, cunning, and absolutely ruthless.”

Jim snorted. “You mean she’s a sociopath.”

“That too,” Josiah agreed easily.

“Fine. Either way, I've gotta get going. Runt's on his way up there and I don't trust Chris to be able to control him."

"Don't know if it's a matter of can he, so much as will he?" Buck commented. "But yeah, you get going. We'll take over freeing everybody else on this floor."

"Good. See you later."

"Good luck."

"You too." Jim popped open the vent in the wall and climbed in.

Picking up one of the guard's rifles, Buck looked around at the people in the room. "Anybody here got Special Forces or Military training?"

Two men and one woman stepped forward.

"Good. Josiah, divvy up the weapons. You three along with Josiah, Nate and me will act as point and rear guards. Let's go kick the crap out of some terrorists," Buck grinned wolfishly as he headed to the door.

*******

Vin met up with Chris and Jim outside the Presidential Suite. It had been easy work to distract and knock out the two guards at the door.

“Any idea how many people are in there?” Chris asked quietly.

Jim cocked his head to the side to listen. “Total of seven people in the outer room, an eighth in a room beyond that. Four goons, Moran, a woman far too calm to be a hostage, and Trent. I can’t get a clean scent on the eighth but I’m pretty sure it’s Ezra. How do we want to do this?”

“I suggest you boys stand back out of sight,” Vin said already pulling his rifle strap off his shoulder and handing it to Chris.

“What are you doing, Vin?” Chris demanded, grabbing his arm.

Vin shrugged him off. “Just be ready, cowboy.”

Jim grabbed him this time dragging him back a few steps. “No. I’m not gonna let you commit suicide, runt.”

“And I’m not going to just sit here while they torture Ezra and Sensei,” Vin growled.

“No you’re not, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you just turn yourself over to Moran.”

“Really. You got a better suggestion?”

“Actually I do. You and Chris are going back into the ducts. I want Chris to take a covering position on the main room while you work your way back to where they’re keeping Standish. I’ll be providing a distraction while you’re getting him the hell out of there.”

“I should be the one going in there,” Vin insisted.

“No. You want vengeance against Moran, I get that, but it is Moran in there. He’s got Malloy and Standish. There’s a good chance that you walk in there and you’ll zone. You need to concentrate on getting your Guide out of there. I’ll take care of Moran for you. Got it, runt?”

Vin stared at him a long moment before nodding. “Yeah. I got it.”

“Good. Get moving, both of you. I’ll wait a couple minutes for you both to get into position.”

Moving down the hallway, they found and popped open another grate into the ventilation shaft. Vin slipped in easily, his mind already focused on the task of freeing his friend and Guide. Chris paused for a second to look back at Jim.

“Good luck.”

“You too.” Jim nodded. Once Chris was gone he tapped his earpiece. “Blair, listen up…”

*******

Simon chewed unhappily on his unlit cigar, watching the minutes tick by. It was getting uncomfortably close to the deadline Moran had set. He glanced over at Blair who was leaning back against one of the patrol cruisers. There was an intense look of concentration on his face as he stared at the hotel, his gaze dropping periodically to the watch in his hand. Every five minutes like clockwork he would speak softly into the headset he was wearing.

Sometimes he would report what Jim said to him. They knew that the Bomb squad were disabling the explosives. He’d also reported that Jim had found and freed Buck, Nathan and Josiah. No sign of Ezra yet. JD had been taken by the Stalker just before the hotel was taken over. They could only pray they would fine the young man alive and whole after this was all over.

Carlos was pacing off to the side, glaring at anyone who came near him. He too had developed something of a routine while waiting. He’d pace two full circuits, pause to look at Blair, then stare at the hotel for several long moments before starting to pace again. Guilt was eating the young man alive but there was little Simon could say at this point that would make him feel better.

“What?!”

Blair’s sharp exclamation had everyone staring at him. He ignored them. “Jim, you can’t. Jim. Jim? Jim! Dammit!” He ripped off the headset and tossed it on the cruiser’s hood.

“What’s going on, Sandburg?”

“Jim thinks he’s John Wayne.”

Confused looks were exchanged. “You want to translate that into English please?”

Blair scrubbed his hands over his face, letting out a sharp exhalation of breath before looking up at Simon. “Moran has Ezra too. Vin is just this side of feral. Jim is sending Vin to where Ezra is to rescue him and Chris is taking a covering position in the ductwork. Jim... Jim is turning himself over to Moran to give them time.”

“He what?!” Simon bellowed. “I want to talk to him!”

“He took out his earpiece,” Blair said with a shake of his head. “Don’t you think I’d still be arguing with him if he hadn’t? Sir.” He added belatedly at Simon’s raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, Sandburg. This whole thing is one big mess.” Simon sighed looking towards the hotel. He glanced back when Carlos spoke.

“Did he say anything about Trent?” Carlos asked quietly.

“Just that he’s alive. Sorry, man, that’s all he said.”

“No, that’s good. That’s good. He’s alive.” Carlos nodded jerkily, his arms wrapped around himself. “He’s alive.”

Blair looked at him in concern. A hand coming up to grip Carlos’ forearm. “This isn’t your fault, man. Seriously. If you’d been in there too... You said Moran went after Trent’s brother first. Don’t you think that if he knew you were in the building he wouldn’t have snatched you too as leverage against Trent. No, man, Fate can be a fickle bitch but she did us all a favor by talking you into going to get donuts.”

That startled a laugh out of Carlos and chuckle from Simon. Blair was right. Things could have been a hell of a lot worse.

“Captain Banks! We’ve got movement at the door!”

They all turned back to the hotel and sure enough someone had stuck a white piece of cloth out the door and was waving it around.

“EVERYONE HOLD YOUR FIRE!” Simon bellowed. Before he could take the bullhorn that someone was holding out to him the door was pushed open further giving them a clear shot of a woman in typical dressed down cop clothes – jeans, a blousy button down shirt. She was wearing a shoulder holster but it was empty. As they watched she began directing people out the door and along the front wall of the hotel towards the next building over and the police blockade setup there.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Simon muttered.

“What?” Blair asked.

“They’re the hostages. They freed themselves. You!” Simon pointed his finger at a patrolman standing nearby. “Get over here.” As soon as he was close enough Simon grabbed the radio on his shoulder. “Those are our hostages, people. Keep them against the building but help them out of there. I want everyone detained until they can be positively ID’d. Move it, people.”

Before he’d even finished speaking Blair and Carlos were making their way behind the barricades towards the fleeing hostages. Simon sighed and hurried after them. Ellison and Malloy would kill him if anything happened to either of them.

*******

Jim stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before nonchalantly crossing his arms over his chest. He seemingly ignored the guns aimed at him, his gaze resting squarely on Moran.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Trent strung up on the wall. He didn’t need his enhanced senses to tell him the damage that had been done to the younger man.

It took all of his self control to not give in to the rage that filled him. Vin and Chris needed time to get into position and rescue Ezra. He was just he distraction, though Moran wasn’t walking out of this room alive as far as he was concerned.

“Heard you were looking for me?”

“Well, well, well. So you thought you’d just walk in here and what? Sacrifice yourself for that little shit Tanner? Or maybe I’d let Sensei,” he sneered the title as if it were a curse, “Molloy, go. Not a chance in hell. Want to know what I think?”

“I think you’re going to tell me either way.” Jim replied with a shrug.

“Don’t push me Ellison. One press of a button and I can bring this whole place down around us.”

“You could, but you won’t.”

“Really,” Moran sneered, “and what makes you so sure. I have you and Molloy.”

“True, but you want Tanner. Blow up the building and you won’t get him.”

“Is that so? If you’re here then it’s probably safe to say Tanner is too. He’s probably listening to us as we speak. So I blow up the building and I get to kill all three of you at once.”

“You could do that, but you won’t. Two reasons. One, blowing up the building right now would kill ‘everyone’ in it, which happens to include you.” Jim cocked his head to the side. “I could be wrong, but you strike me as the type who likes to gloat over his enemies. Can’t do that if we’re all dead.”

Jim smirked at Moran’s snarl. “And of course, reason number two why you won’t hit that button. Vin’s not in the hotel.”

“You’re lying, Tanner would never let you in here by yourself or leave his precious Sensei here to be tortured.”

“No, he wouldn’t. Which is why his superior officer knocked him out and left him locked up in a secure location to prevent him from doing anything ‘stupid’.” He made little air quotes with his fingers.

“You’re lying!” Moran spat out again, advancing towards Jim. “He’s here. I know he is!”

Jim shrugged. “Believe that if you want or you can take the deal I’m about to offer you.”

He watched Moran’s men shift around nervously. Apparently they were starting to realize that things weren’t going as well as Moran had planned.

The glaring woman standing behind Moran close to a closed door, puzzled Jim for a moment. She was too well dressed to be one of Moran’s ‘men’ but was hardly a hostage. Then Josiah’s words came back to him “Ezra's Stalker is not a man but a woman. She has shown that she’s intelligent, cunning, and absolutely ruthless.”

This was the person who Ezra was so afraid of. This was who had Ezra now. The urge to kill her with his bare hands was strong but he held it in check. It was Vin’s and Ezra’s right to kill the bitch for the things she had done. His concern was Moran and making sure he didn’t hurt anymore of his tribe.

“What deal?” Moran demanded, drawing Jim’s full attention back to him. Before he could answer the woman grabbed Moran’s arm.

“What are you doing, you fool? This is obviously a trick of some sort. He’s stalling.”

“Get your hand off of me.”

“Fine. It’s your funeral.” The woman snapped as she stepped away from him.

“What’s your deal, Ellison?”

“I beat you in hand-to-hand your boys here surrender peacefully and the hostages go free. You beat me … you get me, Molloy and the location of Vin.”

“Now that’s an intriguing offer. You’re rather confident that you’re going to win.” Moran seemed to take a moment to consider it. “Very well, I accept.” A gesture of his hand and two of Moran’s men move forward.

“What the hell is this, Moran?”

“You actually expected this to be a fair fight? You should know better than that, Ellison. Get through my men and I’ll give you a shot at me.”

Jim didn’t have a chance to argue as the two men attacked. He certainly hadn’t expected Moran to fight fair but he hadn’t expected this either. If Moran thought Jim would win he could easily blow up the hotel, but Jim couldn’t take the chance of losing. Not with Trent, Vin and Ezra’s lives on the line.

How the hell was he going to pull this off he had no idea.

*******

Vin snarled softly at the sight of Ezra tied to the chair, bruised and naked, reeking of sex and fear. He would kill the person that had hurt his Guide. It took only a minute to undo the grate and slip inside. The sudden increase in Ezra's heartbeat and the renewed scent of fear fueled Vin's rage. Landing with cat-like silence, Vin turned so Ezra could see it was him. There was an immediate look of relief on Ezra's face.

Before Vin could move to release him, the door swung open admitting a well-dressed woman. The look of anger and fear on Ezra's face, the familiar scent told Vin all he needed to know.

"Freeze. ATF," he commanded, training his rifle on her.

She stopped and turned towards him, a sardonic smile on her lips. "Would you really shoot a helpless woman, officer?"

"You? In a heartbeat, bitch."

The smile was swiftly replaced by anger. She dropped and rolled, coming up next to Ezra, a gun in her hand. He held his fire, afraid of hitting Ezra.

"Well, it seems I was right. You aren't going to shoot me. Men are so predictable."

"No, we're not," Vin replied, pulling the trigger. She fired at the same time, but Vin had already started moving so it hit his arm instead of his chest. She wasn't so lucky, Vin's bullet tearing right through her heart, dropping her like a stone.

Vin immediately turned towards the door, but from the sound of it they were having their own problems out there. Quickly stepping over the woman's body, Vin pulled his knife and cut first the ropes on Ezra's ankles then his wrists. He then snagged the cover from the bed and helped Ezra stand so he could wrap him in it. Vin held him loosely as Ezra leaned into him, trembling.

Vin would never know what had alerted Ezra, but suddenly the smaller man turned, Vin's Glock in his hand. One shot to the head finished the job Vin had started. Ezra fired five more times before he lowered the gun.

He leaned back against Vin and he wrapped the blanket around him once more.

"I gotcha, Ez. I gotcha."

******

Jim fought as ruthlessly as he could, trying to disable or knock out Moran’s goons. Another time, another place and he would have simply killed them all, but the cop in him and the fear of what Moran would do held him in check.

He was fighting the last man when he saw Moran heading for the desk and the detonators. Knowing he had mere seconds, Jim slammed his heel into the side of the guy he was fighting’s knee. In one swift move he took the knife the guy held and threw it at Moran. At the same time three gun shots rang out simultaneously.

Moran jerked like a puppet on strings, his arms flailing. Jim could only watch in horror as Moran managed to hit the detonators. A quick glance around as time seemed to slow to a crawl showed him Vin and Ezra standing in the doorway of a bedroom guns in hand. Chris was half in-half out of the ventilation grate gun aimed at where Moran had stood. Trent hung limply from the wall unconscious, though the shot blasts had started to rouse him.

Then the explosions started.

And the hotel began to shake.

******

Blair worked as quickly as he could, helping to move the fleeing hostages along the building fronts until they were out of danger. There was very little panic thankfully. Probably because most of them were law enforcement or the family of law enforcement.

He smiled gently at the barely teenaged girl who’d been handed to him. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s your name? Mine’s Blair.”

“G-Giselle,” she stuttered out, silent tears tracing down her cheeks.

“Giselle? That’s a pretty name. Listen, Giselle, I want you to keep up with me as best you can. We’re heading over there where you’ll be taken to a safe distance and they’ll help you find the rest of your family. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, nodding.

Wrapping an arm around her small shoulders, Blair started quickly ushering her along the hotel front. There was almost no warning. A low rumbling sound, the ground trembled. Blair instinctively pulled Giselle to him, dropping them to the ground just as the window they were in front of exploded outwards. He heard Giselle screaming as he covered her as best he could. There was a moment of blinding pain...then nothing.

******

“We shouldn’t be too much farther now, boyo. Down the hall and around the bend should be one of the back entrances.”

“Great.” JD frowned as a thought occurred to him. “Uh, Jericho? Won’t it be guarded by some of your buddies?”

Jericho snorted. “Wouldn’t call them that. I’m an independent contractor, I am. But you’re right. I’m going to leave you here for a moment.”

JD bite back a moan as his abused muscles protested his being lowered to the floor. He watched Jericho slip silently down the hallway and around the bend. A few seconds later he could just barely hear a muffled thud. Another few seconds passed before Jericho reappeared.

“We’re good to go, lad. Up and at ‘em.”

He got JD back onto his feet and they continued slowly forward. They were about five feet from the door when they heard the first explosion. A quick glance at each other had them bolting towards the door.

They just made it out when JD felt himself being thrown through the air, Jericho wrapped protectively around him. He landed with a hard thud, crying out as more bruises where added to his already battered body. Jericho landed heavily on top of him along with something else.

It took several moments for his ears to stop ringing. When it did, JD could hear sirens and the sound of shouting in the distance.

Jericho groaned above him, slowly rolling to the side so JD could move. Once he was free, JD turned back to Jericho and found that the metal fire door that they had just exited was what had fallen on them.

Considering the state he was in, it took JD several tries to get the door off the other man. “You okay Jericho?”

A low moan was his response. After a second Jericho slowly rolled onto his side, his left arm clutched to his body.

“Been better, boyo, but I’ll live. You?”

“New set of bruises and some nifty pavement burn but I’ll live.” He replied with a crooked grin. “Hotel’s still standing.”

“You’re bomb squad must have gotten most of the charges.”

“But not all of them which means they probably got caught in the ones that went off.” JD said heavily.

“Most like.” Jericho agreed.

They sat for several minutes watching the smoke. Finally JD turned to Jericho.

“Can you walk?”

“Probably, why?”

“You should get going before the guys come looking.”

Jericho stared at him. “You’d let me go.”

JD shrugged. “You saved my life. You weren’t in this to hurt my friends.”

“You sure about this, lad? You’re letting one of the bad guys go.”

“Not so bad I think and yeah I’m sure.”

“Alright then.” It took him a couple of tries but he finally made it to his feet. He held out his good hand to JD. “Up you go, lad. Best try to make your way around front as no one seems to be coming to look this way.”

Gripping Jericho’s hand, he whimpered as the strained muscles in his arms were pulled but he made it to his feet. JD shook Jericho’s hand.

“Thank you. For everything, Jericho.”

“Thank you, lad. Now get a move on.”

With a smile JD turned and began walking towards the corner of the building. About half way there he stopped to look back. Jericho had already disappeared. Shaking his head, he continued forward.

******

Pushing himself out of the ventilation shaft, Chris landed on the floor with a grunt. Pain lanced through his shoulder, but it was only momentary. Judging by the way Malloy was screaming, his shoulder was nothing. Chris scrabbled to his feet, staggering as the floor rolled and bucked beneath him. He nodded to Vin and Ezra standing in the doorway, clutching the doorframe and each other to stay upright.

Chris made it across the room to Malloy at the same time as Ellison. Together they steadied the slim blond and got him unchained from the wall. The sight of the rather large knife jutting from Malloy’s thigh had Chris wincing in sympathy.

As suddenly as the shaking started it stopped. There was a moment of absolute stillness as they waited, uncertain if it was over.

Malloy groaned breaking the moment and spurring them into action. Chris yanked off his belt, using it to tourniquet Malloy’s leg. Jim gently checked him over for any broken bones.

“You boys okay over there?”

“I’m good now, cowboy.”

“I have been better, Mr. Larabee, but I shall survive.”

“Good to hear. I take it your Stalker problem has been solved?”

“The only place that bitch is going is six feet under,” Vin growled.

Jim and Chris both raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. “If you’re up to it, why don’t you two go and check out the stairs. We need to get Malloy out of here and the elevators won’t be working.”

“On it.” Vin looked at Ezra. “You alright to come with me or do you want to stay here?”

“I’ll accompany you. I would prefer not to remain within these rooms any longer than absolutely necessary.”

The two of them headed out into the corridor; Ezra pulling the blanket tighter around himself as they went.


	19. Chapter 19

“Standish is hiding injuries,” Jim commented when they were out of the room.

“I figured as much,” Chris nodded. “Nathan won’t let him get anywhere without being checked out by the EMTs. Easy, Malloy. You’re safe.”

“Ezra. They have Ezra!”

“We’ve got him too. Moran is dead. So is that Stalker woman.” Jim assured him. “You’re a bit of a mess here, Malloy.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell, Captain.” Trent muttered sarcastically.

“Smartass. Except for your ribs there doesn’t seem to be any broken bones. It feels like you might have one broken rib, a couple others are cracked.”

“The cuts and the knife are the bigger problem,” Chris continued for Jim. “I’ve already put a tourniquet on your leg and we can probably bandage your arms and wrap your ribs using some bed sheets. We could rig up some kind of stretcher to carry you but I can pretty much guarantee it’s going to end up putting some major pressure on that knife making it hurt like hell. We’re also going to have to take the stairs rather than the elevator so if you try to walk out with us supporting you it’s still gonna be pretty damn painful. It’s up to you what you want to do.”

Trent bit his lip, lines of pain evident on his face, as he decided which would be the lesser of two evils. Finally, “I’ll walk. Trying to get a makeshift stretcher down those stairs isn’t going to work very well.”

“Alright. You sit still for a minute while I go get something to bandage you up.” Chris moved into the bedroom that Ezra and Vin had come out of. The sight of a chair in the middle of the room with severed ropes around it had Chris clenching his teeth. The ripped and discarded dress shirt and the heavy scent of sex in the air told him more than enough about what had happened in here. He spared little more than a glance at the body of the woman who had caused Ezra so much pain and heartbreak. If she hadn’t been dead Chris would have been more than happy to fill her full of bullets himself.

Ripping the sheets off the bed, which thankfully appeared not to have been used, Chris headed back into the main room. He knelt down next to Trent and began ripping them into strips. Jim used them to bandage Trent’s arms as best he could before moving onto his chest. By the time Vin and Ezra returned they had Trent bandaged as best they could.

“The east stairs look to be sound as far as we can tell.” Vin looked worriedly at Trent. “You going to make it, Sensei?”

“I’ll make it, Vin. No way am I going to let that bastard win.”

“Good. Hopefully you’ll still feel that way when we get you on your feet,” Jim said smiling slightly. Moving carefully, they slowly raised the injured blond to his feet. Jim took the side with the knife wound, while Chris supported him from the other side. Trent’s eyes were squeezed shut, his breath coming in harsh pants as he rode out the pain. After a tense moment he nodded his head.

“Let’s go.”

They moved slowly out of the suite, Ezra and Vin leading the way. Both to make sure the stairs were stable and because there was no telling how many of Moran’s goons were still lurking in the hotel.

By the time they reached the ground floor Trent was pretty much unconscious again, Jim and Chris carrying rather than supporting him. Ezra and Vin came behind them. Coming into the lobby, they were surprised at the amount of damage. The floor and walls were fairly intact but the furnishings had been tossed about or shredded. The large glass windows appeared to have shattered outward. Through the haze that filled the lobby they could see various emergency workers moving about in the street outside.

Stepping through the ruined lobby doors, no one noticed them at first. It was Carlos who spotted them, his eyes going almost comically wide.

“Trent!” His shout and dash through the wreckage drew the attention of several others. Chris surrendered his place to Carlos, the man already babbling so fast in Spanish Chris could barely make out individual words never mind understand him. He scanned the area looking for the rest of his team, hoping they’d all made it out okay. He found Buck, Nathan, and Josiah. He could see Simon in the distance coordinating with the various agencies there. No sign of JD or Blair for that matter.

“Where’s JD?” Chris asked once Buck was close enough. “I figured you two would be together.”

“Ellison didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Chris demanded turning to glare at Jim who glared right back.

“Don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t exactly the best time to say anything.”

“Would someone please tell us where Mr. Dunne is?” Ezra asked before Chris could start anything.

“Just before the hotel was taken JD and I stopped back at our room. A cleaning girl came in and tranqed me before I realized what was happening. I saw her tranq and take JD before I passed out completely. We think she might be your Stalker, Ez,” Buck said apologetically.

“She was,” he replied tiredly. “She’s dead now.”

“Did she anything about JD?”

“No. Had I known I certainly would have demanded to know his whereabouts.”

“You guys want to move and let the EMT’s through before Trent bleeds to death,” Nathan interrupted. Buck, Chris and Josiah immediately stepped to the side letting the EMT’s through with a backboard. One immediately started cataloging Trent’s injuries, discussing what Nathan had already found with him. Jim mentioned the broken and cracked ribs he’d found. The EMT’s just nodded as they worked. They pulled out stabilizer pads to immobilize the knife in Trent’s thigh before they moved him to an ambulance. Within ten minutes they had him strapped to the backboard and headed out; Carlos helping them to carry him.

By that time Simon had joined them. Jim looked around in concern. “Where’s Blair?”

“They took him to the hospital.”

“What?”

“Calm down, Jim. He should be fine.”

“Should be? What the hell happened, Simon?” Jim demanded.

“In case you haven’t noticed, the hotel blew up,” Simon snarked at him. He paused rubbing a hand over his face. “He was helping the fleeing hostages when the building blew. Some of the debris knocked him out and he ended up with a chunk of glass in his shoulder. They took him to the hospital and the EMT’s expect him to be fine.” Simon looked over the rest of them. “Any of you guys need an EMT as well?”

“Ezra does,” Vin said. “Captain could use some looking at, same as Chris with the way he’s favoring that shoulder.” He ignored the three sets of glares aimed his way with a smirk.

Before anyone could say anything there was another shout from the corner of the hotel. Turning, they saw an officer supporting a familiar figure.

“JD!” Buck called out. The young man looked up and smiled when he saw them, giving a weak wave. It was hard to say who moved faster, Buck or Nathan as they reached JD at the same time. The others were only a few steps behind them. Up close they could see that JD had taken quite a beating himself. Cuts, abrasions and bruises littered his torso and arms. One eye was well on it’s way to being swollen completely shut and the corner of his mouth was cut and swollen. The bruising around his wrists standing out harshly against his pale skin. Buck was patting him softly on the shoulder though he was clearly vibrating with the need to hug JD but afraid to cause him more pain.

“Thank God, you’re alive, kid. What did that crazy bitch do to you? How badly are you hurt? Where were you? How’d you escape? Damn. Almost wish Ezra and Vin hadn’t killed her so I could.”

“Buck, calm down,” JD said with a tired smile. “I’m alright. A little battered but I’m okay. She just tied me up and beat the crap outta me.” He looked over at Ezra and Vin. “She’s dead? Really dead?”

“Yeah, JD. She’s really dead.” Vin assured him. “How did you escape?”

“A guy found me. Looked like some kinda soldier. I guess he might have been one of the people who took over the hotel. He got me down from the pipe she’d cuffed me too and then helped me out of the building. We’d only just made it to the backdoor when the bombs went. By the time I came to he was gone. He saved my life.”

“Sounds like a guardian angel,” Josiah said. “Something we can all be grateful for.”

“Amen to that,” Buck agreed.

“She just cuffed you to a pipe?” Ezra asked with a frown, then realized how that might sound. “Not that I am not grateful she didn’t injure you in any other way, Mr. Dunne, but it doesn’t fit with her usual methods.”

“The pipe she cuffed me to was right in front of a steam vent that’s scheduled to release everyday at 6pm. So if someone didn’t find me before then I’d’ve been boiled alive.”

“Ah. Yes, that’s more her style.”

“As fascinating as this all sounds it looks like at least half of you need to go to a hospital. You mind letting us do our job?”

They all turned around at the voice behind them finding three EMTs standing there with a gurney. The one who’d spoken, whose nametag said Gibbons, pointed at JD, Jim, Ezra, Vin, and Chris. "You five are coming with us. Any of the rest of you need attention?”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Chris insisted.

“Uh-huh. Then stop hugging your arm when you say that. I might believe you.” He shook his head. “Let’s go boys. None of you are getting out of this.”

JD let them put him on the gurney while the others reluctantly let Buck, Josiah, Nathan and Simon herd them to the waiting ambulances.

Walking away looking at the destruction around them, Ezra couldn’t help thinking. Veni, vidi, vici. We came, we saw, we conquered. Although in their case corruo was probably more accurate. We destroyed.

*******

Four hours after the hotel blew up Simon, Megan and Joel were finally able to join the group in the hospital waiting room. Buck, Josiah and Nathan had been checked over for any lingering effects from the gassing they’d all been subjected too. The graze on Vin’s arm had been stitched closed and only needed to be watched for signs of infection. Chris’ dislocated shoulder had been popped back in place and he was now wearing a sling. Jim’s cuts and bruises had been deemed minor so he was treated and released quickly. Vin, Carlos, and Jim were all pacing around much to pretty much everyone’s annoyance. Buck had considered joining the pacing, worried about JD, but decided he didn’t feel like dealing with the glares the other three were receiving.

Several people in the crowded waiting room looked up when a nurse stepped into the doorway clipboard in hand. “Is anyone here for Jonathan Dunne?”

“We are,” Buck shouted, immediately jumping to his feet. The others all clustered around as the nurse joined them.

“You’re all...?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re all, er,” Buck paused to reword what he was saying, “some of us are on the same ATF team as JD back in Denver, some are friends from the local PD, and friends from the PD in Dallas. How is he? He didn’t seem too badly hurt. Are they going to release him soon?”

Nurse Lowe held up her hand before he could keep going. “Mr. Dunne is going to be fine. Mostly minor bruising and cuts. The muscles in his shoulders are strained so lifting them is going to be painful for awhile. Some deep bruising along his back, and three cracked ribs. There is also still some type of sedative lingering in his system so the doctor has decided to keep him for at least a day for observation. They’ll be moving him to Room 302 shortly.”

Before she could walk away Vin stepped in front of her. “What about Ezra Standish?”

“And Blair Sandburg?” Jim asked.

“Or Trent Malloy?” Carlos also asked, the three crowding around her to see her clipboard.

“Guys. Back off,” Chris ordered the same time as Simon said, “Jim, give the lady some room.”

The three men reluctantly backed off to the nurse’s relief. She quickly scanned her clipboard for the status of the men they’d asked about.

“Mr. Malloy and Mr. Sandburg are both listed as in surgery. Mr. Standish has been treated, his dislocated shoulder reset. The doctor is also keeping him overnight for observation because of the sedative used on him and the possibility of a concussion. They’ll be moving him to room 314 shortly.”

Vin let out a sigh of relief though he didn’t relax. He wouldn’t relax until he’d seen his friend for himself.

“Would it be possible to put JD and Ezra in the same room?” Chris asked. “It’d be fewer rooms for us to move between and easier to keep Ezra from trying to escape.”

“Escape, sir? I wasn’t aware he was under arrest.”

“He ain’t a criminal, lady,” Vin growled.

“Vin!” Chris said sharply. “It’s not that, ma’am. Ezra just doesn’t like staying in hospitals any longer than he absolutely has to. If he’s mobile he’ll try and leave. Putting him in with JD would save everyone a lot of trouble.”

“The same if you could put Sandburg and Malloy either in with or near them,” Simon added.

“I’ll see what we can do, gentlemen. Someone will let you know as soon as they’re in a room.

They all thanked her as she left. Simon looked at Chris as everyone settled back down. “Is Standish really that bad?”

“Let’s put it this way. Houdini’s got nothing on Ezra when he wants out of the hospital.”

“That bad.”

“Yep, and Vin can be just as bad. The hospitals back home have taken to stationing orderlies just outside their doors if they want to keep them overnight. And always put them in the same room if they’re both injured to make it easier to keep an eye on them.”

Simon chuckled, thankful that his own people weren’t quite that bad. Then again it was usually Sandburg who was injured and with Jim in Blessed Protector mode Blair was lucky if he could get up to go to the bathroom. He almost groaned. God, he was going to be dealing with two cranky men for the next couple of months. Blair couldn’t sit still for two minutes and Jim was not going to be happy about it. Maybe Denver PD wanted a pig-headed Cop/Sentinel and his partner/Guide?

*******

About twenty minutes later the nurse was back. “Alright. Mr. Dunne and Mr. Standish have both been put in room 306. Barring anything unforeseen happening during their surgeries Mr. Sandburg and Mr. Malloy will be put in room 307. You may go up to room 306 now and remember, gentlemen, that this is a hospital and you will be quiet.”

They all agreed, eager to see for themselves that JD and Ezra were alright. Finding room 306 easily enough, they entered the room quietly so as not to disturb the two sleeping men. Buck made a beeline for JD while Vin headed straight for Ezra. Chris settled himself in a chair between the two beds leaving the others to arrange themselves around the room.

Ezra’s eyes opened the second Vin sat down next to him. Vin smiled softly. “Hey, Ez? How ya feelin’?”

“They are refusin’ to release me from this institutional breeding ground of illness and disease. They want to *observe* me.”

The rather cranky tone got chuckles from around the room.

“They just want to make sure that you’re alright, Ez. The Doc is concerned that you might have a reaction to the sedative Moran’s guys used.”

“I’m fine. Besides, I believe I would have shown some reaction by now, would I not, Mr. Jackson?” Ezra looked at Nathan who was standing at the foot of his bed reading his chart. Nathan shrugged.

“Probably, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Plus you dislocated your shoulder again. The doctors are probably concerned about any negative interactions the pain medicine they gave you might have with the sedative. One night won’t kill you, Ezra.”

“Fine,” Ezra huffed, “but if I catch so much as a sniffle while I am here it will be your fault.”

“Sure, Ez. Whatever you say,” Nathan grinned as he sat down.

“Buck?”

“Hey, kid, how ya feelin’?” Buck asked quietly, brushing JD’s hair back from his forehead. “You in any pain?”

“M’fine.” He grinned dopily. “Gave me the good stuff. Doan feel a thing right now.”

Buck looked worriedly at Nathan.

“They gave him a shot of Demarol, Buck. He’s fine. Once it wears off they’ve got a note to put him on low-dosage Codeine. Nothing to worry about.”

“Good. Good,” he repeated turning back to smile at JD who was blinking his eyes drowsily. “Go back to sleep, JD. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Kay.” JD quickly slipped back into sleep. The guys just smiled fondly at the innocent picture their youngest made.

“Any idea how long they’ll be holding them in here, Nate?” Chris asked.

Nathan shrugged. “I’m not the doctor so I can’t say for sure, but best guess is they’ll release Ezra tomorrow unless something happens. JD might get released tomorrow, more likely the day after.”

Chris nodded. He would call AD Travis in a little while after he’d talked to the doctor so he could let him know what was going on. In the meantime they’d wait to hear what was happening with Blair and Trent.

********

Two hours later a nurse knocked on the open door of the room. “Excuse me, I was told to let you know when Blair Sandburg came out of surgery?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jim was instantly on his feet. “Is he alright? He’s going to make it, right? Can I see him?”

She smiled. “He came through surgery with flying colors. They’ll be bringing him down in just a few minutes. You’ll be able to see him then.”

“Thank you.”

“Your welcome,” she smiled and left.

Jim hovered by the door until he finally saw them wheeling Blair down the hallway. He followed the orderlies into the room, standing to the side until they were done transferring him to the bed and the nurse had finished fiddling with his IV. Once they were all done and had left he sat down in the chair beside the bed and allowed his senses to scan his sleeping Guide.

After a moment he slumped back in the chair relieved. Blair’s heartbeat was strong, he could find no signs of infection in the shoulder wound, and beyond the small lump on his head was in good health. Jim inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of his Guide and friend, finding comfort in the steady heartbeat. Now he just had to wait for him to wake up.

*******

It was almost three hours later when they finally wheeled in the gurney with Trent, Carlos trailing behind. Blair had roused briefly during the wait so Megan had returned to the precinct leaving Simon and Jim in the room to watch as Trent was carefully transferred to the bed. Most of his body was covered in gauze bandages. His left leg had been placed in a full length brace to keep him from moving it and then elevated slightly at the ankle in a sling.

Carlos sat down heavily in the chair next to Trent’s bed. Simon glanced over him then at Jim before nodding his head. He rose to his feet. “I’m going to go get a cup of coffee. Why don’t you come with me, Jim. You want anything, Carlos?”

“Uhm, no, I’m good. Thank you though.”

“I’d rather...”

“You need a cup of coffee, Jim,” Simon stared hard at him.

“But...” Jim looked from Simon to Carlos, then back. “Oh, yeah. Coffee would be good. You’ll let me know if Blair starts to wake up, right?”

“Of course,” Carlos answered immediately, though he suspected it didn’t matter where Jim went in the building he would know as soon as Blair started to wake up. Jim hesitated a second longer but finally let Simon drag him out of the room.

Finding himself alone now, Carlos stared sadly at Trent’s sleeping form.

“God, Trent, mi amigo, mi hermano, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. Once again he mentally pictured all the wounds that had been inflicted upon his best friend, always coming back to the sight of that knife jutting obscenely from a powerful thigh. That wound alone was going to take a couple of months to heal and then months of physical therapy and Trent might never be as strong as he had been. And it was all his fault.

“This is all my fault. I never should have left you guys alone. God, you were both hurt and I was supposed to be there to help protect you. If I’d been there…”

“You’d probably be dead,” Vin interrupted from the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, arms folded over his chest. Carlos swallowed heavily, positive that Vin hated him for not being there to protect Ezra from that psychotic bitch. And hadn’t that been a shock that the stalker was a woman.

“I don’t hate you, Carlos. Yeah, I was pissed that you weren’t there but in the end it really was best that you weren’t. Ezra got a concussion trying to stop‘em from taking Sensei. You’d probably’ve gotten the same then probably killed when they came back for Ezra. And who knows, we might not’ve found that sewer access if it weren’t for you.”

“But…”

“Vin is right. You can’t blame yourself for this,” Blair chimed in.

“But I should have been there.”

“I’m glad you weren’t.”

Carlos started at the soft voice. “Trent?”

Trent gently grasped Carlos’ hand. “I am. It was bad enough what they did to me and they wanted me alive. I don’t want to even think about what they would have done to you. Plus, the last thing I want to have to do is tell my mom that you’d gotten injured much less killed.”

“Oh, so instead I get to do it.”

“Mom always did like you better,” Trent teased.

“It’s because I’m better looking,” he teased back with a grin. The grin faded a little as he looked at Trent with sad eyes. “You sure we’re good, mi amigo?”

“Very good, my friend. There isn’t anyone I would rather have at my back than you.”

“Same here.”

*******

**Wednesday Afternoon**

Blair, Jim, Trent and Carlos all looked towards the door when Ezra and JD entered in wheelchairs being pushed by Vin and Buck respectively the rest of Team 7 behind them.

“They’re letting you guys out?” Blair half-asked, half-whined. “Man, that is so not fair. Why won’t they let us out?”

“Maybe it’s because they pulled half a glass window out of your back, Chief,” Jim responded drily.

“Still…”

“You’re not going anywhere, Sandburg, until the Docs okay it.”

Trent looked at Carlos. I’m not that bad when I’m in the hospital, am I?”

“No, thank God. You’re usually much more patient.”

“And how often are you in the hospital, Mr. Malloy?”

“Uh…”

“Often enough,” Carlos answered for him, “but not as often as any of you from what I’ve heard.”

“Aw, we’re not that bad,” JD said.

“Not that bad?” Buck asked incredulously. “Hell, boy, if I had a gray hair for every time you’ve been in the hospital I’d be grayer than Josiah.”

“Are you trying to imply something, Brother?”

“Uh, have I ever told you how distinguished and, er, stately your gray makes you look, Josiah?” Buck said plastering a grin on his face.

Josiah just raised an eyebrow.

“JD hardly has the market cornered on time spent in the hospital. I can think of two other people in this room who seem determined to put me in an early grave from wondering if this is the bust where they’re going to get their fool heads blown off,” Chris glared specifically at Ezra and Vin.

“I take umbrage at that heinous accusation. I refuse to be anything but a dignified corpse and fully intend to have an open casket when I die of old age, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, what he said, Cowboy,” Vin replied with a grin, enjoying the way Chris’ eye twitched ever so slightly at the hated nickname.

Blair started to comment, but Jim slapped his hand over his mouth. “Don’t even think it, Chief. The words pot, kettle, stones and glass houses are running through my brain right now.”

Blair just rolled his eyes. Nathan also rolled his eyes at everyone’s antics as he stepped forward. “Before everyone starts getting too excited we just came in to let you know that Ezra and JD have been released, we’ve got rooms at the Marriott on 34th. We’re on the same floor as you and Trent, Carlos. I figured we’d let the hotel know that you still needed the room and about Trent being in the hospital for the moment.”

“Thanks. We’d appreciate that.” Carlos nodded.

“Alright, now all of you out before a nurse or their doctors come by and throw us all out. We’ll talk to you later, guys.” Nathan herded them all out with Chris’ help.


	20. Chapter 20

**Friday Afternoon**

Blair carefully sat down on the picnic table bench, wincing as the slightest movement pulled at the muscles in his shoulder. The doctors had warned him that it was going to be several months before he could move his arm and shoulder without feeling some residual pain and he would have to go through physical therapy to make sure he got back his full range of motion. All in all he was not looking forward to it.

"You alright, Chief? Want your pain meds?"

"No, I'm fine, Jim. It's still in the manageable range."

"If you're sure? Don't..."

"I'm fine, big guy. You'll know if it's too much. I'm fine."

Jim relented with a nod so Blair turned to Ezra and Vin who were watching with amusement. "And that, folks, is what we call Sentinel Blessed Protector mode or serious mother-henning. Alright, I'm not entirely sure where exactly to begin. I'm by no means an expert but I guess I'm the closest thing we've got. Vin is the third full Sentinel I've met while you're only the second Guide that I know of, Ezra."

"I thought all Sentinels had to have a Guide. To prevent those black outs," Vin said, confused.

"Zone outs," Blair corrected, "and you're right. A Sentinel does need a Guide mostly for that reason. Alex, Alexandra Barnes didn't have a Guide. Her senses had only recently been fully activated. I tried to help her but I wouldn't, couldn't be her full-time Guide. I was Jim's, though we weren't fully-bonded yet, and when I refused she killed me."

This drew startled looks from Vin and Ezra while Jim just glowered at the table top.

"You seem to have recovered remarkably well from it," Ezra finally broke the silence. "Might I inquire as to how you did? It might come in handy to know how to cheat Death."

That startled a laugh from Blair. "I don't think it would work a second time or on a bullet. She drowned me. When the paramedics pronounced me dead Jim refused to accept it. I'm still not entirely sure how he did it but our Spirit Animals merged for a few moments, long enough to bring me back."

"That is something to be grateful for. What did you mean by fully-bonded? According to your thesis..."

"My thesis is not entirely correct. It was written based on some assumptions that I have since found out were wrong. For a Sentinel and Guide to be a true working pair they need to be fully-bonded. And get your mind out of the gutter, it doesn't involve sex though most aboriginal tribes don't have the same social taboos we do about same-sex pairings. Anyway, any Guide can pull a Sentinel from a minor zone out, as can close friends and/or family. That's why Chris was able to work with you a little, Vin, but not when it came to your major zone out. But eventually without being fully-bonded a Sentinel will eventually slip into a major zone out that only their bonded Guide would be able to pull them out of. Jim and I were able to work together as long as we did without completely bonding because we lived together and had formed a sort of half-bond. Unfortunately it also led to Jim being extremely territorial putting his modern sensibilities at war with his Sentinel instincts. It was sooo not fun, let me tell you."

"If it is not sexual then how do we 'fully-bond'?" Ezra asked. "And what would happen to Vin if we did not? Could one of these zone outs kill him?"

"Yes, very easily if they happened at the wrong moment." Blair glanced at Jim. "Our first meeting, well second really, didn't go so great and Jim walked away. As he was crossing the street the bright color of a frisbee being tossed caught his attention and caused him to totally zone. If I hadn't pushed him down he would have been hit by a garbage truck and never even realized it. A major zone out can also kill a Sentinel in and of itself. When a Sentinel zones out everything else but the one sense they're focused on disappears. It's like going into a coma like state. Eventually their body will simply shut down and die."

"But you said that even without fully-bonding you were able to bring the Captain out of a zone."

"Yes, but it was getting harder as time went on. I didn't know how to fix the problem and the whole thesis mess happened. After that we took a leave of absence and traveled to Peru and the tribe that had taken Jim in when he'd been on that last mission. While Incacha, the shaman who'd helped Jim was dead, I figured his apprentice who was the new shaman would be able to help us and he did." Blair gratefully took a sip from the bottle of water Jim handed him before he continued speaking.

"In most tribes Sentinels and their Guides were identified long before they reached puberty. A Sentinel is usually identified while still in infancy since they are usually born with their senses 'online'. A Guide takes a little longer because there is no definitive quality that makes a Guide and a Sentinel might go through a couple candidates before finding the right one. Once they've both been identified and reach puberty they would be sent out on a weeklong Vision Quest. The important part was that they were alone together without any distractions outside of the natural world. Jim and I did one when we went to Peru. Until then neither of us had realized how much was missing from our bond. Not to mention how much more stable it is now."

"So what are you suggesting? We journey to the wilds of Peru and meditate for a week?" Ezra asked, his skepticism and distaste for the idea clear in equal parts.

"No nothing quite that extreme." Blair hastened to assure him. "Take a week and go on a camping trip in the mountains or something like that. The main thing is being and working together somewhere that there are no distractions. No other people, which means your friends can't go with you. No cell phones either. Meditate if you want. But work as a team together and help Vin learn to control and use his senses. One of the worst things that could happen to a Sentinel is for him to become afraid of his senses. I'm not trying to scare you or anything but learning how to control your senses is important and just suppressing them isn't the answer. They will eventually come back."

Ezra and Vin looked at each other for a long moment.

"We could use that old line shack on the back end of Chris' property. The one I told you about."

"I suppose that would be adequate. It certainly would be out of the way in the wilds of Mother Nature."

"Yep. Takes near a day just to reach it. The boys wouldn't make that trip without good reason, specially if we tell them why we're going."

"True. It also has the added benefit that should we not arrive back after the allotted time Mr. Larabee would know exactly where we were supposed to be.”

“Isn’t that a bit pessimistic?” Jim asked, eyebrow raised.

“Simply realistic. While I trust Vin and his knowledge of the wilderness implicitly, I am not so trusting of Mother Nature.”

Jim nodded his head in agreement. Nature could be a tricky thing.

“Is there anything else we should know?” Ezra asked turning back to Blair.

“I think that’s pretty much it. Like I said, every pairing is different. There are no hard and fast rules beyond trusting each other and working together which does mean learning to compromise. Oh! Uh,” Blair glanced at Jim then back at Ezra and Vin, “I’m going to assume you guys don’t live together.”

“Of course not. Why?” Ezra asked suspiciously.

“Like I said, every…”

“Pairing is different. Yes, Mr. Sandburg, you’ve repeated this many times. What does this have to do with our living arrangements?”

“It’s… Historically all Sentinel/Guide pairs have lived together. It was unheard of to separate them because a Guide is their Sentinel’s anchor. Without them they would be lost. It was never really an issue for us because soon after we met I…uh, kinda became homeless and Jim offered the extra room in his loft. I’m not really sure how you two living separately is going to affect your bond.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment contemplating the ramifications of Ezra and Vin not living together. It was Ezra that broke the silence.

“So what you are trying to tell us, Mr. Sandburg, is now that Vin is wholly aware of his senses and more inclined to use them to the fullness of his abilities and once we are ‘bound’ that I must give up my privacy and most likely I will have to give up undercover work, something I am very very good at and without which the ATF will most likely see no need for me to continue working with them and therefore send me back to the FBI who don’t trust me thanks to the machinations of my dear sainted mother, which will mean that not only will I have lost everything I have worked for in Denver, a job I love, but I will also probably be transferred to the ass-end of nowhere and still be separated from Vin. How do you possibly expect me to do that? I have no objections to being Vin’s Guide, we work very well together, but he cannot possibly go with me on every undercover assignment, people *will* start to notice!”

Blair was slightly taken aback by Ezra’s vehemence and a little surprised that Vin was simply quietly observing this outburst without showing any concern. “I-I’m not sure. Every pair…”

“If you finish that sentence, Mr. Sandburg, you will not like the consequences,” Ezra growled.

“Is that a threat?” Jim growled back.

Before Ezra could say anything in response Vin put a hand on his arm. “Go take a walk, Ez.”

For a minute it looked as if Ezra was going to ignore him but finally he got to his feet and stalked away. Vin watched after him a moment then turned to look at Jim and Blair. “He’ll cool off in a minute. He knows this ain’t your fault but he’s got some issues with trust and privacy.”

“Yeah, I kind of noticed that,” Jim said drily.

“You haven’t seen anything,” Vin shook his head. “Him being pissed isn’t an act but it’s only part of how he feels. I ‘spect that by the time he comes back he’ll have a way figured out for us to move in together without no one taking any kind of exception to it. Problem is the undercover work. He really is the best damn undercover agent there is. I could never ask him to give that up, but from what you’re saying that’s exactly what he’s going to have to do and that will open up a whole can of worms that will either force him to leave the ATF and/or the FBI, possibly force me to leave the ATF, or separate us. Not exactly pleasant choices any of them.”

“No, they aren’t,” Blair agreed heavily. He thought about it a couple of minutes. “I’m not saying this could definitely work, but taking into consideration the fact that you guys have lived apart for this long, plus he’s been undercover for long periods of time since you’ve met, well, I think with a few precautions Ezra should probably be able to continue going undercover. I wouldn’t recommend huge periods of time, say, over 3 months without any contact, but it should be doable.”

“What would be doable?” Ezra asked resuming his seat at the table. “I apologize for my outburst.”

“Apology accepted. I was just telling Vin that I think you should still be able to do your undercover work just not for months at a time without any contact.”

“And how do you believe this is possible?”

“Well, you guys spend a lot of time separate now, but you’re not fully bonded which does make a difference, but I think if you were to live together and for when you have to leave you made recordings of things like your heartbeat, your voice, maybe the two combined, uhm, maybe a recording of your voice when you’re bringing Vin out of a zone or even just working with him. I’ve been told that my voice takes on a specific tone and pitch during those times so it would stand to reason that yours would too. Maybe make a copy for Chris or the others to have handy if something should happen while you’re not around, though I’m pretty sure Chris is Vin’s secondary Guide. Not quite as good as his full Guide, he won’t be able to help Vin all the time like you can, but he could probably do in a pinch. I think it could work though.”

“That is good news to hear.”

Vin nudged Ezra. “You figure it out?”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Actually yes, Mr. Tanner, I believe I have come up with a suitable cover story to explain why we are living together and to perhaps even put some money in our pockets in the long run.”

“Knew you’d find a way to make a profit out of this.”

“Just because some of us can see the grander scheme in life and know how to beat the system at it’s own game…”

“So that’s what ya call it.”

“Insufferable, Mr. Tanner. You are truly insufferable.”

“Uh, how are you going to make money from this? The whole fiasco with my thesis should be big enough proof that going public is a really bad idea.”

“I’m insulted. I would never subject Mr. Tanner to something such as that. No, I was talking about our cover story. I do have a good deal of money thanks to my inheritance from my father and a bequest from husband number 3 or was it 4? No, husband number 4 was the oil tycoon who preferred to ship me off to boarding school in Switzerland so that he could pretend I didn’t exist. Husband number 3 was the banker who enjoyed having such an apt pupil. He died when I was in college from a severe heart attack.”

“Wait a minute. When the Fibbies accused you of being on the take why didn’t you just tell them it was your money? That you’d inherited it?” Vin asked.

“They never asked,” Ezra replied with a shrug. “They simply accused me, I told them to prove it which they couldn’t, and when I said it was my money they chose not to believe me. Getting back to the subject at hand, I have some money and an eye for decorating, you have at least some rudimentary carpentry skills. It would not be entirely out of character for us to consider going into the home remodeling business. We find a ‘fixer-upper’, purchase it, work on renovating and then decorating it, then sell it or should we find that we like it the way it is, given enough time that it took us to do the work no one would be likely to consider it amiss should we simply not move.”

Vin nodded his head in agreement while Jim and Blair stared in surprise.

“Sounds like a good plan. Always thought about doing something like that but I never could seem to find anything that was structurally sound without still being out of the range I was looking to pay. And I do have some money of my own. Hazard pay for Black Ops is pretty good and I wasn’t hunting bounty for pocket change. Only ever went after ones that were 500 grand or more. Told ya he’d have a plan by the time he came back.”

“That you did, Runt. That you did,” Jim shook his head in amazement.

Blair shook his head as well and grinned. “Something tells me you guys are going to do just fine. Since I can’t think of anything else that doesn’t involve more testing of Vin’s senses how about we go get some lunch? There’s a great barbecue place not too far from here.”

With a quick glance at each other Vin and Ezra nodded. “Sounds good. Should probably call the boys though, see if they want to join us,” Vin suggested.

“Mr. Wilmington will be insufferable if we did not at least give him the option of having barbecue and I refuse to listen to him whine the entire rest of this trip.”

Jim laughed. “Call them then. It’s called Jack’s Place on Brahman Blvd. Find out if Trent and Carlos want to come as well and I’ll call ahead to make sure they can put together a table big enough for us.”

As Ezra flipped open Vin’s cell phone they all headed towards Jim’s truck.

*******

**Cascade International Airport  
Two Days Later**

“Things shouldn’t change too much for you,” Simon commented, looking at Chris over his cup of coffee. They were currently standing by a gourmet coffee kiosk one gate down from where the rest of Team 7, Jim, Blair, Trent and Carlos were sitting. Somehow the flight to Denver was leaving from the gate right next to where the flight to Dallas was leaving. It certainly made things easier for everyone.

Chris glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, the bulk of his attention on the group of rambunctious men they supposedly led. “How do you figure that?”

“Well, it seems Standish and Tanner naturally pair up anyway so the extra time they need to spend together won’t seem to abnormal to other people. From what I’ve seen this past week they do seem to know each other best. Unless I’ve misread...”

“No. Vin and Ezra do usually pair up. It’s either them or me with Ez. In case you didn’t notice he can be a stubborn annoying pain in the ass.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

They both grinned.

“Since I prefer not to have one of my guys in jail for killing another I try not to tempt fate.”

This got a chuckle from Simon..

“Don’t get me wrong. Ezra is a good agent. Probably the best undercover agent I’ve ever seen, and if you tell him that I’ll kill you, but.... Between Maude’s ‘training’ since birth and the shit that went down in Atlanta before he joined the team Ezra doesn’t do true personal relationships well. Vin, for some reason somehow, gets him. And I don’t thinks it’s because of this Sentinel...thing.”

“No, it probably isn’t,” Simon agreed. “Although I think Sentinels must have some sort of instinctive patience or something when it comes to dealing with their Guides. Some of the stuff Jim’s put up with dealing with Blair, well. Let’s just say I probably would have strangled the kid a long time ago myself. Not that those two never fight, they’ve had some serious fights and not always about Sentinel stuff either, but they’ve gotten through it.”

“So any advice on how to deal with this? You being the expert on dealing with this shit from an outside perspective.”

Simon snorted. “Expert my ass. Yeah, actually, I do. Give them the time when they need it. A few days off together can do wonders for their dispositions. Unless it looks like it’s going to come to blows don’t get between them in an argument. Hell, even then you’re probably better off staying far away from it. And last but not least, consider taking a creative writing course.”

“What?” Chris turned to frown at Simon who just grinned back.

“Yep. You’re going to need to learn how to write creatively to cover up all the times Vin finds some sort of evidence that no one else could have seen, heard, smelt, or felt.”

“You didn’t include taste.”

“Because I don’t even want to think about what kind of evidence could be collected by tasting it.”

It was Chris’ turn to chuckle at Simon’s look of disgust.

“Covering for Vin shouldn’t be too difficult. A lot of our evidence is paperwork, the actual items that they’re trying to sell or import, and catching them red-handed.”

“Now that’s my favorite kind of evidence,” Simon grinned.

“Mine too,” Chris agreed. “Anyway, covering for Vin won’t be too hard. His eyesight is already legendary in the ATF. He holds the record for distance with both a rifle and a handgun, with and without sights. He’s also known for spotting things other people don’t. He didn’t get the nickname the Tracker because he leaves tracks all over the place.”

“Damn. You sure you don’t have Superman working for you?”

“Vin is too damn ornery to be Superman,” Chris snorted.

_::We now ask that all passengers who need assistance or have small children board Flight 107 to Denver, Colorado. We now ask that all passengers who need assistance or have small children board Flight 107 to Denver, Colorado.::_

“Guess that’s us. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Simon, though hopefully the next time we see each other it’s not so exciting.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Cascade would survive having you boys around on a regular basis.”

They both laughed, knowing it was probably the truth. Joining the others at the gate, they began their own round of goodbyes.

~~~

“It was good seeing you again, Captain, and it was good meeting you, Blair,” Vin said rising to his feet as they started calling boarding for their flight to Denver.

“Same here, man,” Blair smiled shaking Vin’s hand then Ezra’s. “You too, Ezra. If either of you need any help with stuff don’t hesitate to call. We’ll be more than happy to help.”

“I expect you to call just to talk to, Runt.” Jim grinned. They clasped forearms in a warrior’s grip.

“I will, Captain.”

Jim turned to Ezra and shook his hand. “Take care of him, Standish.”

“I fully intend to.” Ezra handed him a business card. “This is our contact information, including email addresses. If someone doesn’t get back to you after a week then you may start to worry.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jim chuckled.

_::Now boarding passengers in rows 20 to 28 on Flight 107 to Denver, Colorado. Now boarding passengers in rows 20 to 28 on Flight 107 to Denver, Colorado.::_

Vin turned to Carlos and Trent. “You keep an eye on Sensei, Carlos. Try and keep him out of trouble.”

“I’ll do my best,” he grinned ignoring Trent’s indignant look, “but you know how he can be.”

“Yep. He can be a right handful.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Keep it up and I’ll make you walk home, Carlos. From here.” Trent scowled though it was ruined by the way his lips kept trying to twitch up into a smile.

“You wound me, Trent. You really do.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Trent shoved at his laughing friend. Grinning, he turned to Ezra. “It was a pleasure meeting you though I wish it had been under better circumstances.”

“As do I, Mr. Malloy. It has been an honor meeting the man who helped Mr. Tanner become the formidable opponent that he is during our sparring matches.”

It took Trent a second to translate exactly what Ezra said, then smiled. “Thanks, but all I really did was teach Vin the basics. He did the rest himself.”

“Perhaps, but you put him on that road and gave him the inclination to continue down it.”

“It’s what the Army paid me for.”

“Anyone can teach, Mr. Malloy. Few can teach well and inspire their students to continue learning beyond what they’ve taught them.”

“Uhm, thanks, and now that I’m thoroughly embarrassed. You spar with Vin? What discipline do you practice?”

“A little of this, a little of that.” Ezra shrugged. “I dabble mostly.”

“Not hardly,” Vin snorted. “Ez has black belts in both Tae Kwon Do and Jiu Jitsu.”

“The Jiu Jitsu was only recently acquired,” Ezra said diffidently.

“That’s still impressive. Maybe once my leg is healed you guys could do a long weekend to Dallas or us to you and we could try sparring.”

“That would be cool,” JD interrupted. “We should all get together again. Maybe this summer sometime. We could do it in Denver and have a barbecue out at Chris’ ranch and go riding. It’d be great!” JD stopped at Chris’ raised eyebrow realizing what he’d said. “That is if it’d be alright with you, Chris.”

Chris just shook his head at JD’s enthusiasm. “Yeah, it’d be alright with me.”

“Cool! We should so do it.”

“Hold your horses, kid,” Buck ruffled JD’s hair, who just rolled his eyes at the gesture. “I think maybe we should get home before you start planning our next great adventure. Preferably without the terrorists this time.”

“Well, of course we’d leave them out of it, Buck. I don’t really feel like being kidnapped again.”

_::Now boarding passengers in rows 10 to 20 on Flight 107 to Denver Colorado. Now boarding passengers in rows 10 to 20 on Flight 107 to Denver Colorado.::_

_::Now boarding passengers with small children or who need assistance on Flight 1126 to Dallas, Texas. Now boarding passengers with small children or who need assistance on Flight 1126 to Dallas, Texas.::_

“C’mon, boys. That’s us.” Chris picked up his carry-on. “It was good meeting you all. Maybe we’ll see if this idea of JD’s works out. Have safe trips home.”

Slowly Team 7 made their way onto their plane while Trent and Carlos said goodbye to Jim, Blair, and Simon before heading to their own plane. Unbeknownst to them Chris and Simon were thinking the same thing.

Considering the state they’d left Cascade in would Denver survive the group of them?

The End.


End file.
